Bleed into White
by kerein
Summary: Dead shinigami’s zanpakutos are suddenly being resurrected. Clues point to a certain event in the past and Muramasa is somehow involved... Then a certain substitute shinigami gets himself involved.
1. Chapter 1 Casting Lines

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. Bleach and all of its characters are the property of Kubo Tite.**

**Notes:**

**1. The story takes place a while (a year or so?) after the "Zanpakuto: The Unknown Tales" arc . As such, spoilers from the filler as well as the next "The Beast Swords" arc will be abound. This will not fit into the canon timeline. It also assumes that all zanpakutos have reverted to their original sword forms.**

**2. Warnings of OCs, made-up concepts that has no basis in the original work, and copious amount of Plotkai ('Plot' being used here in a rather broad interpretation).**

**3. The story will focus on Ichigo and Muramasa – while nothing overtly yaoi, I 'may' be stretching the definition of 'friendship' a bit.**

**4. The first few chapters will mostly be expository - laying out the ground.**

**REVISED: Incorrect term for 'Vasto Lorde' fixed. Mr .Fix****-It-NAO, thank you for pointing out the correct spelling! (I actually watch/read Bleach in Korean mostly, so sometimes I get confused with regards to English spellings for some of the terms. I really should check thoroughly before I use any of them. Bless the people at Bleach Wiki. )**

* * *

Muramasa, the Demon Blade -  
It is an ominous name.  
It will damn its wielder to hell.

**- Bleed into White -**

**(Kurosaki Ichigo / Muramasa)**

Chapter 1.

Casting Lines

The candlelight flickered. It was the most lively movement in the vast, still room.

As if growing bored, the light flitted across the downcast faces of eight immobile figures sitting in a wide circle. It tried to reach the ninth figure sitting a little apart from others but it was unable to penetrate the thick shadow. The candlelight seemed to give a shrug and went back to tickling the eyelids of other occupants.

However, the voice that broke the silence was not due to the light's teasing, but to its own quiet, suppressed anger.

"Perhaps we're wasting time."

Another voice, like slow scraping against one's nerves, gave assent.

"She has a point. I know_ I'm_ wasting valuable time when I could be coming up with a more useful solution back in my lab..."

"Mind saying that to the old man?"

The third voice slightly failed to stifle the yawn that seeped into the sentence. Another figure that sat ramrod-straight spoke gently.

"If it wasn't worth trying, none of us would even be here."

"We've been trying for...I lost track of time. And Katen Kyokotsu has been muttering things to me that I dare not repeat. I know the 'twins' doing it to you too, you know."

This time, the voice didn't bother trying to hide the huge yawn, but there was no doubt that the owner of the voice didn't miss the slight twitch in his old friend's expression.

A much deeper, rumbling voice echoed - followed by a much lighter, yet equally serious voice from the smallest figure.

"Captain Commander wouldn't have suggested it if this wasn't neccesary."

"But while we're sitting here...we leave the rest of Soul Society in danger."

The owner of the earlier lazy voice sighed and stretched.

"I knew I should have snuck in a bottle of sake at least... "

"I have it."

The quiet new voice instantly pulled in everyone's attention as if by invisible strings. Candlelight, suddenly interested again, flickered over to the figure's impassive face. Then it suddenly withdrew in fear as the voice from the reclusive ninth figure boomed - low and monotonous but filling up the room with its sheer presence.

"Have you fully secured the reiatsu, Byakuya?"

"Only a strand, the opposite pull is...strong."

"I shall take care of it. Concentrate just on the reiatsu, Captain Kuchiki."

Another voice that had kept silent until now spoke with calm authority. At the same time, the candle flame shot up at the sudden change in the air. The light thrown back upon the eight figures showed intense concentration, and a faint glow surrounded each figure.

The ninth figure slowly rose to his full height and opened his eyes. The air in the room became stifling, fierce. The flame gave one last desperate flicker and was gone.

But by then, it wasn't needed anymore.

The room was now filled with blinding light.

* * *

It was a grave dent of dignity for any self-respecting teenager, but Kurosaki Ichigo vaguely felt that he had pretty much gave up on the idea of privacy.

Having unannounced visits from acquaintances that can walk through walls was probably a factor.

"Oi, Ichigo!"

"Don't 'Oi Ichigo' me... I really shouldn't get used to this..."

Upon entering his room, Ichigo sighed and sat down on his bed, facing the two shinigami that had been idly lounging on his desk and window, respectively. Only then did he register the red-haired shinigami's expression.

"What's up with you?"

The vice captain of the Gotei 6th Division replied by way of low grunt that bordered on a growl. Rukia sighed and gestured at her companion.

"Well, Renji couldn't be trusted to stay calm while he was in Seireitei, so..."

"...And the only retreat you could think up was my room?"

Ichigo's comment achieved the feat of having Renji don an expression other than anger - that of disgust. Rukia rolled her eyes.

"Renji, you should have seen yourself...You just walked right up to Nii-sama, looked him straight in the eye and..."

Rukia cleared her throat and gave a quite passable rendition of Renji in his heights of rage.

" 'Captain, I just want you to know that I am fully, utterly, COMPLETELY _AGAINST THIS_!!!'"

"You don't have to repeat that!"

The hue that shot up Renji's face could have competed with his hair. But they now had Ichigo's attention.

"You actually went up against Byakuya? Huh, must have been something."

"It's actually why we're here."

Rukia was suddenly all seriousness.

"Unsettling...things are happening."

"More than usual?"

Rukia whacked the teen's head once and continued as if nothing happened despite the teen's loud protests.

"Some shinigami have been...for the lack of a better word, disappearing."

"...Disappearing?"

"Several shinigami have failed to report back for a long time, without anyone being able to locate their reiatsu. Mostly lower-ranking shinigami but some even up to 5th seat. It took a while to notice because disappearance happened very gradually, one by one. Even now, we're not sure how many."

Renji, his head resting sideways on his hand, followed in low mutter.

"And then a few of them 'showed up'."

Ichigo looked from Rukia to Renji, back to Rukia, and blinked. Rukia continued.

"A member of the 11th division was on passing through Karakura town and happened to confront one of the missing shinigami - _absorbing a hollow_."

Rukia gave a dramatic pause and was not disappointed. Ichigo had sat up, face intently pushed forward.

"The two engaged in a fight. The shinigami in question was not a seated shinigami. And the one who encountered him was in 7th seat. Yet he would have been killed if Vice-Captain Hisagi didn't intervene. They did manage to capture that one - apparently, he just dropped once his zanpakuto was subdued. Only...it wasn't his zanpakuto."

Rukia took a breath.

"The zanpakuto he was wielding was a completely different one than his own. We have no idea what happened to his own zanpakuto. Captain Kurotsuchi studied the zanpakuto and found that it was actually listed in the old records. Going by the name of Kumodo (雲動- moving cloud)."

"And get this."

Renji interjected.

"That zanpakuto belonged to a shinigami in the old 11th division, 5th seat_. Who died 9 hundred years ago_."

* * *

"Yama-Ji, do you almost have it? I think whoever's on the other side got wind of us...and we're not sure how long we can hold 'em off..."

"Less talk, more concentration."

"...Yessir."

The air in the room became wild slashes of sheer force that snatched and clawed like a caged animal. There was visible tension in the faces of the occupants - some gritting their teeth with obvious effort.

Even as the force of the congealing reiatsu roared, the only figure that stood still remained as firm as a rooted tree, his unblinking eyes never straying from the center of the room.

Then Yamamoto Genryusai spoke.

"It is done."

Suddenly, the atmosphere subsided, and a few of the figures let out a breath that they didn't notice they were holding. They turned their attention to the center of the circle they've formed - where the previously rampant reiatsu was now concentrating.

It began to take a form.

* * *

"Wait, wait..."

Ichigo held up a hand, the other clutching his head. He slowly folded in a finger.

"Let me get this straight...One: All these zanpakutos whose wielders are long dead - are suddenly turning up...'alive'. Two: These 'resurrected' zanpakutos are latching onto random shinigami and taking over their minds, controlling them. In which case they're pretty strong no matter the original rank of the shinigami. So...What we have is a sort of...zombie - parasite zanpakuto problem? Is that what you're saying?"

"That's not all. Um, perhaps it'd be better if I draw you a picture..."

"**NO**. I'll manage, thank you. Please continue."

Rukia seemed momentarily hurt by the firm reply but she composed herself.

" Captain Kurotsuchi did confirm some unusual flow of reiatsu activity in Soul Society. They didn't know before because it was so well hidden. One had to _know_ that something was going on to really notice."

"How insulted Captain Kurotsuchi was...really. No one could approach his lab for days and I don't even want to THINK about what was being done to Vice Captain Nemu - being a sandbag for his pent-up anger..."

The three momentarily stopped as they each unwillingly conjured up visions of horror and quickly committed them to the deepest corners of their minds - never to be visited again.

"....Anyway, once we had 'some' idea what we were dealing with, we had a few more sightings of these zanpakuto-controlled shinigami. We were unable to capture any more, though."

"And what happened to the one you captured? How is...the shinigami?"

Rukia and Renji bit their lips.

"The zanpakuto is currently sealed within the 12th division. We cannot get anything out of it but its most basic reiatsu. No-one except the wielder can communicate with the zanpakuto anyway. And that's the thing, a zanpakuto needs a wielder. Which is why we think these zanpakutos are manifesting themselves through shinigami in the first place. The shinigami is not quite dead but not alive, either. It's like his _soul _was eaten by the dominating zanpakuto."

There was a momentary silence. Then Rukia cleared her throat.

"But we have a very definite clue. Apparently...a similar event happened 9 hundred years ago."

"Say what?"

"Exactly the same - minus the resurrection part. Some...'rogue' zanpakutos latching onto shinigami and controlling them - wreaking havoc all over the Soul Society. The archive in the Great Spirit Library records only have a few lines on it and none of the captains knew about this except for the Captain Commander. At the time, several elite shinigami were selected to on a mission to investigate and eradicate the threat. Fortunately, their names were listed. And Kumodo belonged to one of them."

"Ah-hah. So...?"

"Also based on the sightings, it seems that the zanpakutos of those elite shinigami are the ones returning as 'rogue' zanpakutos."

* * *

In the darkness, a voice echoes. It is the voice like that of a child yet it has a strange ring to it - as if something that was definitely _not_ a child had covered itself with a child's skin.

"Lost that one."

Another presence stirs at that. When it speaks, it is like the slow grinding of granite rocks.

"Just one of many, perhaps it's of no consequence-."

"Gotei 13 does not interfere with something that is of 'no consequence'."

As the sudden cold authority washes over the voice, the other presence ceases to speak and stares into the darkness. A while later, the soft voice rings again - the childlike, high lilt seeping back.

"It's a pity that I can only remember their names when they've actually materialized. It's irritating..._knowing_ yet not remembering. I really would like to know what that one was."

The voice takes on a faraway tone, almost that of longing.

"That scent was _very_ familiar..."

"I...we can try finding out."

A hand snakes out of the darkness. It hovers inches before the owner of the granite voice, almost caressing his face.

"No, you WILL find out. Say that again."

The delicate hand is very white, gleaming in the dark. It reminds him of newly blossomed magnolia drenched in moonlight and at the same time, of hungry maggots digging through the black, wet earth to get at the dead flesh underneath.

"We will find out."

"Do try to have more faith in yourselves."

The last sentence contains both warning and scorn and perhaps, most terrible of all, affection.

"After all, aren't you all _my_ zanpakutos?"

* * *

The orange-haired teen scratched his head and adjusted his sitting position.

"So these rogue shinigami-controlling zanpakutos, what do they DO? Aside from stealing away shinigami and have them absorb Hollows... I mean, why?"

"That's what we are trying to find out."

"Well, you have an obvious example, don't you? Who was responsible 9 hundred years ago and what was the purpose of all that? "

The two shinigami actually seemed to fidget. They looked at each other and Renji was the one to speak this time.

"What we told you is practically all there is. Nothing's recorded about who was behind it, how that someone was able to command all the zanpakutos to do his or her bidding, what he or she was after... no one really knows WHAT happened. All we know is that it happened."

"Surely Yama-Ji would..."

"He doesn't."

"Come on, he's practically a living _history_ of Soul Society for crying out loud..."

"He wasn't in charge of that assignment. The order came directly from the Central 46 Chamber. Even Captain Commander was never told the details and the elite shinigami were hand-picked by the Central 46. They all took oaths of secrecy never to speak about the incident."

Ichigo frowned and leaned over.

"So basically, the higher-ups wanted that job done hush-hush. Now it comes back with a vengeance and everyone who knew anything about it are now dead. Nothing against Soul Society personally, but sometimes it seems that Seireitei has an unlimited supply of skeleton-filled closets."

Rukia rubbed her forehead.

"That's...one way to put it. But as for the matter at hand, Hollows aren't the only things they're hunting."

Ichigo felt a cold suspicion roll down his spine as Rukia nodded.

"Yes, some have also been hunting humans with higher spiritual powers. Mainly from Karakura Town. Since you're the substitute shinigami here, that's where you partially come in, Ichigo."

"So...it probably means they need extra spiritual powers to sustain themselves...?"

Then something dawned on the teen.

"You said 'partially'."

Renji dropped his chin back onto his palm in the previous disgruntled matter and gave a disapproving sound. Ichigo glanced at him.

"...And judging from this, I guess the other reason that concerns me is what's annoying you."

Renji seemed determined to not even talk about it. Rukia shot a look at her fellow shinigami.

"Captains came up with...a decision."

Ignoring Renji's huff, Rukia continued.

"They managed to 'intercept' one zanpakuto resurrection process - thus, instead of the resurrected zanpakuto going to whoever is behind all this, they managed to materialize this particular one right before them."

"Is that even possible?"

"Neither I nor Renji can even attempt anything like that. It took the captains several days to just sense the reiatsu. Even then, it's probably a miracle that they've managed it at all. What they did was get hold of the zanpakuto's reiatsu while it was being 'ressurrected', and route all the summoned reiatsu to them so that it'd take form in Seireitei instead of…the 'other side.' "

Ichigo started to nod.

"So this way, you're trying to stop the zanpakutos from being resurrected..."

Ichigo stopped as Rukia shook her head furiously.

"NO. Just one took a lot out of all the captains - and at this time, captains cannot afford to stay absent from their duties any longer. We don't dare try something like that again."

Ichigo's brow creased.

"Guys? I think we're having some major disturbance in the communication line here… What good would that do? Now you just have a...a sword dropped onto your lap. No one can communicate with the zanpakuto other than the wielder… Unless your resident Captain Frankenstein came up with some sick method that will make the zanpakuto talk. Come to think of it, I wouldn't be surprised if he DID...."

"HAH! I wish that was necessary. If anyone or anything deserves Captain Kurotsuchi..."

Rukia shot Renji a sharp look and Renji's outburst subsided into mutterings. Ichigo demanded both an explanation by way of raised eyebrow and Rukia started again - carefully as if treading on thin ice.

"That wouldn't be necessary for this zanpakuto. But more than that, it was _critical _that this particular zanpakuto didn't return as our enemy."

"Sounds like the captains knew exactly what they were looking for."

"On that mission 9 hundred years ago, most of the shinigami assigned got killed. Only a handful survived. Captain Commander knew them all, as well as their zanpakutos. But that's not enough. The captains had to be actually familiar with the said zanpakuto's reiatsu."

"Considering most weren't around 9 hundred years ago, I guess that would rather narrow down the candidates."

"Yeah, just our bloody luck to have just such a _candidate_."

Ichigo was impressed. The red-haired shinigami had somehow managed to load into the word _candidate_ meanings such as 'a bastard that I'd happily cut into thousands pieces while alive and flush down to the deepest Vasto Lorde-infested hellhole in Hueco Mundo'. Ichigo shrugged.

"I still don't know how this concerns me. I mean, none of the captains even knew about it, so there's no way I'm connected with some 9-hundred-year old shinigami, right?"

"Not with the shinigami you don't. But...his zanpakuto is a different matter."

The look that Renji and Rukia gave him stirred a memory. Something that was not-quite-yet-a-name bubbled up to Ichigo's consciousness, threatening to surface at the slightest ripple. Rukia provided it.

"You know this zanpakuto, Ichigo. You fought him. You were with him when he...died."

Ichigo sat there for a moment, looking at his two shinigami friends. Then he looked at the ceiling, dropped his gaze to his hand for a briefest second, and looked back at the two.

"...Muramasa?"

* * *

***The OC zanpakuto names are all made up by yours truly. As my knowledge of Japanese and Chinese is next to nothing, I've solely relied on dictionaries. As a result, poor Kumodo's name is probably not only inaccurate, but disastrous.**


	2. Chapter 2 Locking the Lines

**Note: I actually didn't watch any of the anime fillers/movies/specials – the Zanpakuto and the Beast Swords arcs are the only ones I properly watched. When I needed to confirm some Bleach info, I read up on the other fillers/movies and quite despaired when the ideas I came up for this fic were more or less used already in similar ways… but ah, well, decided to go on.**

* * *

Pasts are empty things.  
And in their despair and loneliness,  
they gouge us out of the present  
and drag us in to fill themselves with.

* * *

Chapter 2

Locking the Lines

* * *

Right or wrong does not matter.

There are talks of conspiracies. Strict codes may prove temporary collars but they're never enough against the tongues that wag so furiously. It is in some way, worse that the Central 46 directly sends the order, for it signifies that truth may indeed be more terrible than the rumors.

The Central 46 are essentially judges and their judgment is faultless here - their selected team of elite shinigami, the best of them. Some captain levels, some not yet of a rank but noted for their potential. They would have gathered in front of the Central 46 Chambers Compound by now. The door that allows no shinigami would open to let them in. There, they'll be told their purpose. There, they'll be told secrets. There, they'll be told to carry out the sentence.

For this is what it is, a death sentence - and not just for the enemy.

Choicest of fruits - to be sacrificed.

But not the root. One can never dare sacrifice the roots, never contaminate it. As long as the root is there, the tree will bear fruits again. When this season's prizes pass, others will come later on.

Yamamoto Genryusai knows why he is kept in the dark about the whole matter. As does Kuchiki Ginrei. What they do not know cannot hurt them. What does not reach the root, cannot rot it.

Right or wrong does not matter. It is merely what is done.

No-one can even guess what the Captain Commander feels about all this. But then, he is not required to feel. His duty is to merely perform what is required. Then again, there is nothing 'mere' about his duty.

He knows all of the shinigami selected. He will remember them. As he does everything. It does not involve an act of will or emotion.

It is just what is done.

* * *

That was 9 hundred years ago. The Central 46 are no more. Neither are their selected shinigami that carried out their sentence. Now the Captain Commander stands in the middle of a room, facing a figure that he remembers. The slender figure seats on a lacquered chair, one leg over the other. By his side, a lean blade sprouts from the wooden floor

"...And hence, it took the 9 captains of Gotei 13 to summon you here."

The Captain Commander stops. There is a brief silence. Then the sitting figure merely glances up with his eyes, and speaks in an almost drowsy whisper coating something sharper.

"Do not think that I am not honored."

And this, also, is what is done.

* * *

"Currently, Muramasa is sealed up in the innermost parts of Seireitei. The important issue right now is to keep him there so that he cannot be used against us."

Renji snorted, interrupting Rukia.

"Yeah, better him in here pissing out than out there pissing in and all that deal. I still say we let the bastard be resurrected and take him on. I told captain, and you, that Zabimaru will not be under his hypnosis again even if the he tries..."

"Are you confident enough in that to stake the whole of Seireitei? And remember, that's not the only thing we're worried about."

As Rukia admonished her companion, one of the sentences she last spoke floated up in Ichigo's head.

_A zanpakuto needs a wielder..._

"Muramasa could also materialize these rogue zanpakutos. And who knows what brainwashing zanpakutos of dead elites can do in their physical manifestations."

Ichigo was a little insulted at the surprised look he received from his friends. Rukia nodded at Ichigo.

"That, and the captains are hoping to gain some insight from him. He _could_ materialize Kumodo and that'd help. More than that, he can tell us what exactly happened 9 hundred years ago."

"Well, he's a handful anyway now that he's fallen 'into our lap' - as Ichigo puts it, no? Sucking valuable reiatsu from captains when we need them the most..."

Ichigo gave a questioning glance to Renji, but it was Rukia who gave explanation.

"The captains are keeping Muramasa sealed so his reiatsu cannot be detected. We're not sure if the one who resurrected him can somehow 'pull' him back. But this seal is costing the captains, as it requires each of their reiatsu -."

"It's the reiatsu used to keep the bastard_ alive_ is what I think is a senseless waste."

Renji was just a little startled at Ichigo whipping his head towards him.

"'Keep him alive?'"

"We-ll, we don't know how the resurrected zanpakutos can still remain separated from their wielders - be it their 'original' wielders or...er, more recent unfortunate ones - but a zanpakuto usually can only last for so long without the wielder, right?"

Rukia picked up.

"That whole Beast Sword matter was an anomaly and we know how those zanpakutos went berserk. Muramasa, once summoned to Seireitei, seems to be completely free of whatever influence that our culprit has over the resurrected zanpakutos. Which means while he proabably won't feel compelled to take over any random shinigmai..."

"...you never know with the bastard..."

"...he wouldn't last long without a considerable source of reiatsu constantly supporting him."

"...Which is what the captains are....'providing'...for him."

The word 'providing' sounded as if it were being sentenced to a torturous death as Renji gritted all the way through the pronunciation. Rukia turned to Renji with a frown.

"Renji, you 'know' that we cannot afford him to be...'gone' at this time. The culprit may just resurrect him again, 'successfully' this time."

As Renji continued to seethe, Ichigo started with an uncharacteristic hesitance.

"So...what, they plan to interrogate him while he…lasts?"

"Well..."

* * *

"...and you realize that why we have no choice but to keep you imprisoned here."

As Captain Commander's narration stopped, the slender figure seemed to lean back a little - as if stretching languidly - and then hunched back over as he rested the side of his face on his long-nailed hand.

"Yes, I suppose it'd prove rather bothersome if I went around materializing some rogue zanpakutos, hypnotizing others in Seireitei, or spreading rumors about what Captain Commander does with the most powerful fire zanpakuto in existence in his spare time, and other scandalous things."

There was a sudden flaring of hostile reiatsu from the figures behind Captain Commander, as well a couple of sudden coughs and a clearing of throat. But neither the Captain Commander nor Muramasa gave any sign of recognizing them. Another brief bout of silence passed as the Captain Commander and the zanpakuto gazed at each other. Yamamoto opened his mouth first.

"Muramasa, not only were you summoned here to be prevented from causing even further harm to Seireitei, but as a potential help that would aid us in dealing with the matter at hand. At the moment, you're the only one with the most knowledge of these - 'rogue' zanpakutos that forced the Central 46 to take matters into their own hands. I remind you of the crimes you've committed to the whole of Seireitei when you set all the zanpakutos on their own wielders as well as the matter of Kuchiki Kouga - even though he was the chief instigator, it was you who set him free before his sentence was carried out."

To the other captains' slight surprise, Muramasa managed to remain impassive at the mention of his dead wielder.

"It will be a chance for you to make what little restitution that is possible for the past wrongs."

Even after Captain Commander's speech was over, the zanpakuto spirit remained immobile and silent - the blue-green gaze unwavering. The Captain Commander merely returned his gaze.

Then, to everyone's amazement, Yamamoto let out a sound that was close to a sigh.

"Well, but those are just words, aren't they?"

Muramasa tilted his head a little - whether in reaction to this or just a whim - as Captain Commander hunched over his own zanpakuto and his formerly towering posture receded to become more like that of a benign old man, yet losing none of the former dignity. When he spoke, the couple of the oldest captains dared to doubt that the tone was just a bit softer.

"The truth is, we cannot force you to do anything. The decision is solely up to you. I could say that it'd be infinitely better than the fate suffered by those unfortunate zanpakutos who were forced to return against their will but those, also, are only my words. If you decide to merely stay there, we'd have to choice to abide by it. In any case, we are not certain how long our reiatsu will sustain you - and if you...'expire', then you'll be resurrected again and 'claimed' for certain."

This earned a bitter smile from the zanpakuto spirit.

"Perhaps I should be grateful that there is someone who's willing to 'claim' me."

For a briefest second, the two oldest captains suspected that something with a distant semblance of a smile passed over Captain Commander's features before quickly abandoning the sacrilegious thought.

"Strange that you would mention that. There is one more proposal we could offer you."

* * *

"A new wielder?"

Ichigo sat up straighter as he received this information. However, Rukia first had to turn to Renji to prophesy a gloomy future where the red-haired shinigami would have to consume only gruel on account of him having ground out all of his own teeth. When Renji opted for dealing out his own violent punishment for the zanpakuto spirit in his imagination, Rukia turned to Ichigo.

"Yes, as a shinigami shares the soul with the zanpakuto, Muramsa also can..._connect_ with another shinigami's soul to become that shinigami's zanpakuto. As this is not a natural connection, it won't sustain him forever, but certainly longer than the current situation. And he'd be in full command of his powers as he'd be drawing his spirit source from his new wielder."

If Ichigo heard Renji mutter 'and that is _exactly_ what we should be worried over...', he ignored it.

"So...in that case, how long does he have?"

Rukia shrugged.

"Not a year. A few months, probably. And if the matter isn't solved by then..."

Rukia trailed off as she realized that she couldn't predict what would happen 'then.' Even as she fought against her own anxiety, she noticed the orange-haired teen had dropped his gaze momentarily. Rukia knew him a little too well to be fooled by the smile that he showed when he lifted his head up again.

"Then, did they decide on a new wielder?"

At the teen's question, Rukia unconsciously repeated what she said earlier.

"Well..."

* * *

"A new wielder, at my own choosing."

The uttered words were no more than a whisper, but they apparently reached Yamamoto Genryusai and he nodded.

"We would, of course, pick out the candidates but the ultimate decision will be up to you – as is not making a choice at all."

"You mean I have the freedom to choose my own prison guard."

Another bitter smile, this time edged with malice. However, this did not affect the old man, who countered almost soothingly.

"I believe a...'sheath' would be a more appropriate term."

Captain Commander turned slowly, not taking his eyes off the zanpakuto whose smile was now replaced with the same impassive expression as before.

"Think on it, Muramasa. We'll take our leave for now. There are pressing matters at hand. "

Everyone except the Captain Commander was a little stunned as the zanpakuto stood up from his seat and gave a slight yet graceful bow just before Yamamoto turned completely away from him and left the room.

* * *

"Probably a captain, right? Considering the potential...threat."

A little too nonchalant, too cheerful. Rukia thought as she listened to the substitute shinigami.

"Likely Byakuya. I mean, he is the one who spent the most time with him before. And Muramasa once did belong to the Kuchiki clan's shinigami. It seems fitting."

A tilt of the head there, shaking of the head here, not looking at her directly. Rukia took in all this as she answered.

"Perhaps, he has not chosen yet and it's been almost two days. We're not sure he'll choose at all. Also, we can't be sure if Renji's would be the example of a worst reaction if this got out on the open, which I think will be soon. Aside from the captains, no one knows about this yet."

"You two know."

"Only because Nii-sama told us. We're not sure why. But he said he trusted us to be discreet and told us to do with this information as we deemed fit."

"And you deemed fit...to tell _me_?'"

This time, it was Rukia who turned away from the teen's direct stare. She looked at Renji as if for support and saw the same confusion mirrored in his gaze. Eventually, the two faced Ichigo and Rukia spoke a little uncertainly.

"It just felt..._right _that you knew."


	3. Chapter 3 Asking won't Hurt

**Note: Well, this is as far as I wrote – so posting up to this point for sure :) …This chapter is actually what I was aiming for all this while so writing first 2 chapters were a little difficult …****. HUGE thanks to everyone who read the work! **

**Note 2: The short phrases before chapter title are my vain attempts to be Kubo-ish. The way he always puts neat stuff before a chapter. **

* * *

I run through path of shadows  
to catch a ghost of you.

* * *

Chapter 3

Asking won't (will) Hurt.

* * *

Muramasa sensed the light footsteps a while before they reached the doorstep. He waited until a pair of black feet appeared in his peripheral vision and looked up.

Standing right in the doorway, the orange-haired substitute shinigami raised his hand and offered an uncertain smile.

"Hey."

* * *

"Why are we wasting time on him? "

The captain of the 2nd division spoke with a much deadlier emotion than that of a certain red-haired shinigami.

"And the sheer…_arrogance_. What does he think he is?"

"Well, he once played the whole of Gotei 13 right into his hand. I say he has _some _ground to be arrogant."

The look Soi Fon gave Shunsui was just short of a glare.

"I still say we force him to…"

"Force him with **what**? Execution? Taking his wielder away? Hundred years of imprisonment?

Shunsui smiled.

"Our bargaining position isn't exactly advantageous."

Soi Fon opened her mouth and visibly bit back certain words. Shunsui touched his straw hat in mock deference and leaned back.

"But, really, what can we do? Yama-Ji. I'd take him myself. Such an _interesting_ fellow. Except Katen Kyokotsu says she'll cut _me_ down first if I attempt it."

Ukitake cleared his throat.

"I, um, did wonder about a certain candidate."

All eyes automatically turned to one direction. Kuchiki Byakuya sat quite still.

"We're actually surprised that you have not come forward… Considering the circumstances and Muramasa's history. I wouldn't think Senbonzakura would protest quite so much…"

Byakuya did not speak, but Yamamoto opened his mouth for the first time.

"Byakuya, it is true what Ukitake says. And you have kept silent in front of us until now. Perhaps it is time to explain why you did _not_ do so in front of your vice-captain and your sister."

A low murmuring broke out but it was nothing compared to their reaction that followed Yamamoto's next words.

"Did you intentionally tell them - fully knowing that Kurosaki Ichigo would soon be informed?"

All captains leaned forward. Soi Fon half rose from her seat, then stopped, as did everyone.

Shunsui pulled at his straw hat again.

"Well, well, speak of the devil."

* * *

Ichigo nearly shifted under the blue-green gaze and consciously stopped himself. The zanpakuto sat on a chair, slightly hunched over a book lying open on his knees.

**A book. **

Remembering he first time he met the zanpakuto, it occurred again to Ichigo that Muramasa was probably the unlikeliest zanpakuto of all. (Then he briefly mused what Zangetsu did in _his_ spare time).

But at the same time – did not his world revolve around his wielder? _As only a zanpakuto's world would…_

Muramasa didn't give any sign that he recognized Ichigo. His gaze merely stared in his direction and seemed to take in something else that was afar. Half afraid that the zanpakuto would just drop his attention back to the book, Ichigo nearly cried out: _'Hey, remember me?'_ when Muramasa spoke.

"Kurosaki Ichigo."

The low, husky voice. Nonchalantly authoritative. Ichigo felt strangely relieved.

"Yeah."

After even what he thought of as a lame comeback, Ichigo ventured again.

"Um…Rukia came to me and told me everything…"

"Ah, yes. It is so characteristic of the Kuchiki clan to assume that they know best."

Ichigo bridled at that and was about to sharply retort in Rukia's defense when Muramasa gave a ghost of a smile.

"But then, who doesn't?"

Ichigo felt his brief anger deflate. Then he realized he didn't know what to do next and was glad when Muramasa provided an opening.

"You can come in if you like. The seal doesn't stop anyone from entering."

Ichigo frowned and took in the doorstep and the room. There was nothing visible but Ichigo did sense a vibration of complicated reiatsu.

"Really? That sounds a little…flimsy for a captain-level barrier."

"The captains can sense any reiatsu entering the seal - meaning they know exactly who is coming and going. And if the reiatsu in the room increases by a certain portion, it'll trigger various kido traps to hold the one responsible until the captains arrive."

"Oh."

Ichigo unconsciously pulled back a foot that was just over the doorstep and looked back, half-expecting to see Captain Commander towering over him, Ryujin Jakka's flame burning fiercely behind his already imposing figure. A little embarrassed to find a very empty hallway, Ichigo turned back to Muramasa, who repeated:

"But you can come in if you like."

Ichigo shrugged in 'what the hell' manner and stepped over the doorway. By this time, Muramasa had put the book aside and had propped his chin on the back of his hand.

"Although, _to get out_…you apparently have to somersault backwards three times with your haori over your head, do a cartwheel holding your nose, and recite the names of the captains backwards while doing all this."

Ichigo blinked. Then he caught the slight upward curve of Muramasa's lips and hazarded,

"…Did you just joke?"

Very quiet expulsion of breath, an almost-chuckle.

"I take no credit. It's a…'ritual' adopted by a little girl who comes here often. I have no idea how she got in here. Nor why she thinks she is the vice captain of the 11th division."

"Um, that is most likely because she IS."

Ichigo couldn't help but smile. Trust Yachiru to pop up at the most unexpected places in that devil-may-care attitude of hers. Muramasa tilted his head a little.

"Really? Well, she does keep me company. And she wants me to get out of here so that 'Ken-chan' could fight me. Whoever that is."

"That is…11th division Captain Kenpachi. He basically wants to fight everybody."

"Sounds like an interesting division."

"Oh, you have no idea…"

"I do seem to recall a zanpakuto who wouldn't stop complaining about his wielder not calling his name right…"

"…Perhaps you have _some _idea."

But the strangeness of the most violent division of all Gotei 13 could only carry the conversation so far. They were soon back doing the silent staring contest. Ichigo was grateful yet taken aback when Muramasa started again.

"Pass my regards and thanks to Zangetsu."

"Huh?"

"So far, he is the only zanpakuto whose reaction to me doesn't fall somewhere between barely tolerant to murderous rage. I do not know if he is just masking it very well… In which case, he has my commendations."

Unwillingly being reminded of Muramasa's uncanny powers, Ichigo took hold of Zangetsu's hilt on his back for reassurance and let go.

"Zangetsu doesn't hold grudges."

Another smile, gone in an instant like an illusion. Muramasa lifted his head and gave a little sigh as he leaned back.

"Well, this is rather anticlimactic."

"What?"

"When we had a proper farewell and everything."

This time, it was Ichigo who smiled ruefully.

"You did say 'someday'."

Muramasa's eyes momentarily took on that faraway look again.

"I did, didn't I…"

Without knowing that he was doing it, and probably because he felt uncomfortable looking into those eyes again, Ichigo looked at Muramasa's hand. Porcelain-smooth and just as pale, despite the seemingly menacing fingernails.

_  
The same hand fading, even as he tried to catch it. _

Ichigo again felt the inexplicable anxiety that came over him when Muramasa had first glanced up at him from his seat. At that time, he wondered if the captains had only managed to summon the ghost of the zanpakuto. Despite the sarcastic banter, the authoritative demeanor, Ichigo thought that he had never looked so fragile. He had an irrational urge to reach out and touch the zanpakuto spirit, just to make sure that he was there.

"Are you alright?"

The words were out without going through any thought process and Ichigo mentally kicked himself. However, there wasn't even any puzzlement in Muramasa's monotonous reply.

"Why would you ask that?"

Because you looked more alive when you were on the verge of dying, Ichigo thought. When you solely managed to exist on your willpower. When you were forced to survive on hollows. Feeling yourself disappearing and still fighting, every moment.

"_I won't stop fighting until I cannot fight anymore."_

"You don't…look like...you're all quite…**here**."

As stupid as that sentence was, Ichigo felt that was exactly it. Not. All. _Here.  
_

"_Your wielder's already gone…"_

Muramasa's gaze was unfathomable as he spoke.

"I always did think that you were very interesting."

Feeling that he was being humored, Ichigo snapped back a little sulkily.

"Well, I think I preferred it when you said overdramatic things like "Our fates are intertwined" and all that."

"If it makes you feel any better, don't think I wasn't completely unembarrassed at saying such 'overdramatic things'."

Ichigo was surprised that he felt a little annoyed. Sure, Muramasa had lied about everything to everyone the last time. And he had to lure Ichigo, of course he'd put on an act.

"Funny how it came to be true, in a way."

Ichigo looked up when he heard that - to see Muramasa absently folding in his fingers and unfolding them.

"Well, then. I'm not sure if this is fate…but you come of your own will this time, substitute shinigami, and you will tell me why?"

_Substitute shinigami. _Sudden bitterness welled up within Ichigo. He swallowed it and hated how his words sounded hesitant:

"You haven't…chosen…a wielder yet?"

Muramasa made a sweeping motion with his hand – possibly the biggest movement he made since Ichigo entered the room.

"Would I be here if I did?"

The tone was not unkind, it gave Ichigo some encouragement.

"So…how does that work? If you do choose a wileder?"

"The wielder would just lead me out. The captains would have to approve of it, of course, for me to leave the seal with the wielder."

"That's it?"

Muramasa nodded. Not willing to have another period of awkward silence, ichigo blurted out, not bothering to arrange his words.

"Well, I already talked to the old man…I mean Zangetsu…and he's perfectly fine with everything and I'm… I suppose I had to talk to the captains first but I thought to come to you initially…And believe it or not, I think Byakuya's actually supportive in his silent, exasperating way… And as you've already been into my mind the last time…"

At some point, Ichigo's brain figured that he had made enough fool of himself and decided to intervene. Ichigo stopped.

He felt he'd do anything, at this moment, NOT to directly face Muramasa's scrutiny. The zanpakuto gave no reaction to Ichigo's outburst, didn't seem to have heard. Ichigo almost hoped it was so.

The zanpakuto's next words proved otherwise.

"Are you offering to be my wielder?"

It was spoken so off-handedly that Ichigo sagged.  
_  
_"Yeah, basically."

Muramasa lifted his head up a bit, eyes never shifting from the teen.

"Why?"

* * *

"This is unacceptable. I'll go there myself and drag him out…"

"Be seated, Captain Soi fon."

"But Captain Commander…!"

"We have yet to hear from Captain Kuchiki."

Soi fon did sit down but her glance towards the 6th division captain was sharper than the sting of Suzumebachi. Unfazed, Kuchiki Byakuya opened his mouth.

"I trusted vice-captain Abarai Renji and Kuchiki Rukia to exercise proper discretion with the information imparted to them."

Soi Fon countered.

"Which immediately resulted in having a 'human' near one of the most dangerous zanpakutos in existence…"

"_Substitute shinigami _Kurosaki Ichigo was the one who successfully defeated the said zanpakuto previously."

Byakuya's countenance betrayed nothing as he continued to address the Captain Commander.

"I have put forward no suggestion and I do not intend to do so. As the situation stands, however, I merely point out the facts: Kurosaki Ichigo was the only one who previously connected with Muramasa – however briefly – and the only one who subdued him in a just combat. If the question arises, I must admit that I cannot find any fault in his credentials."

"He's a mere 'child' who is not even two decades old…!"

"Come to that, that zanpakuto's older than most of us, no?"

Soi fon's glare shifted target to Captain Kyoraku. Who didn't help the matter by saying, 'Well, second shot of that, and I'd drop dead, wouldn't I?' Unexpectedly, it was Unohana who spoke next.

"But, all this leads to nothing, doesn't it?"

Byakuya spared a glance at her and she smiled.

"It's the zanpakuto who chooses the wielder, always."

* * *

Ichigo was taken aback by the short and direct question and repeated it just to earn some time.

"Why?"

"Yes. Why."

Muramasa slowly stood up from his seat and Ichigo found himself looking up at the stance he remembered. Both hands in the folds of his snow-white robe as he looked down upon everything. Effortlessly arrogant, thoroughly poised and imperturbable. And Ichigo thought: _Ah, so THERE you are…_

Muramasa walked up to the teen. The even gait almost hypnotizing.

"Is it because you feel somehow responsible? Because you came to my spirit realm and defeated me? Because you called me and I heard? Because you were there when I died?"

As Muramasa approached, Ichigo wondered if he was ensnared by his ability - whether Muramasa held him in place as he did when they had fought. The zanpakuto now stood so near Ichigo that if either of them leaned over enough, their faces would touch.

"Or is it some sense of duty? You do not trust me in the hands of anyone else, or, for that matter, by myself? Where I may still prove dangerous to Soul Society and your friends that you feel so protective over?"

I_ should_ be angry, Ichigo thought. But apart from the actual words, the voice failed to sound accusatory, nor derisive, as it should have been. Muramasa lifted one hand in front of Ichigo's face as if to cover it – then slid it down so that his nails nearly brushed the teen's chest – where his heart was.

"Or do you **pity** me?"

THAT angered Ichigo, but at the same time, it conjured up a memory of a certain shinigami about to strike down his own zanpakuto. A memory of himself who wasn't quite so angry, who didn't quite know what to do at that time, because that was before he fought the zanpakuto inside his spirit realm which was also a core of his being…

_Didn't you hold onto my hand? _

"No! Yes, no. I don't know."

Ichigo heard Zangetsu. It wasn't a word per say, just a thrumming against the back corner of his soul. All of a sudden, Ichigo remembered the first time he met Rukia, and what she had said when he first 'started' being a shinigami.

["_Don't be naïve. Don't even start if you don't plan on going all the way.  
You'd better be willing to give your life to make that commitment."]_

"But I know this."

And Ichigo found himself looking directly at the zanpakuto spirit as he remembered what he shouted back to Rukia, at that time.

["_I saved his soul because I wanted to."]_

"I want to be your wielder because I want to. There's no other reason I can give you."

["_Just like you did when you saved me. Were you thinking everything through at that time? Was it all duty and sacrifice? Was it, shinigami - Rukia?"]_

"But that is possible only if…you want it."

Silence. Ichigo stared into the blue-green depth, unable to read anything.

_  
If you want. _

Then suddenly, Muramasa turned away and walked back towards the chair.

An unexpected weight of disappointment came down on Ichigo like a mountain as he looked at the retreating back. Which was why Ichigo was completely unprepared for what happened next.

Muramasa stopped in front of the chair and wrapped his hand around the hilt of the blade that stood nearby. In one liquid movement, he pulled it out, turned back, and, seemingly passing by Ichigo, carelessly thrust the sword towards the teen.

By sheer reflex, Ichigo caught the lean blade in both hands.

Only then did he notice that Muramasa was still standing beside him - the hand now devoid of the sword still lifted towards the substitute shinigami.

"Well?"

Ichigo blinked as Muramasa slightly turned his head to face him.

"Aren't you going lead me out of here…_my new wielder_?"

* * *

"Well,"

Shunsui leaned back and folded his hand.

"Well, well."

Everyone except Kuchiki Byakuya and Yamamoto looked over each other's faces. Hitsugaya Toshiro sighed resignedly.

"Leave it to _him_ to take on trouble."

Everyone then looked at Soi fon and she, too, sat back.

"I just want it known that I most _strongly_ protested against this."

"That will be noted. And now… are we all in agreement that the seal and our reiatusu will no longer be required?"

As the nods – some grudgingly - rippled throughout the room, Shunsui touched his straw hat towards Captain Commander.

"It'll be very _interesting_, Yama-ji."

* * *

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Ichigo looked back at the room they've just stepped out of. Then he allowed himself a grin and walked forwards.

Muramasa's hand stayed reassuringly solid in his grip.

* * *

"Oy, you there!"

The young shinigami turned. He was of small stature, with a around face that bespoke of absolute harmlessness and perhaps a little good-natured idiocy.

"You mean me, sir?"

"Yeah, you. What do you think you're doing? Which division do you belong to? This is the 12th division compound."

"Oh, I had an errand for the research division. Just a list of certain records and data…"

The shinigami showed his division badge, which seemed to mollify the older shinigmai.

"Well, just give them to me. You don't know how close you came to having the unluckiest day of your life. Didn't you know that's Captain Kurotsuchi's lab you almost went into? These days, you really don't want to be in his way. Especially with that zanpakuto…_thing_… sealed up in there…"

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir. I'll just be on my way, then. Thank you."

"You do that."

The young shinigami passed the parcel to the older one, saluted, and walked away. In contrast to his outward appearances, the thoughts that ran through his mind were quite many and decidedly complicated. However, the main thought was that at least one of his assignments was done.

Satisfied with that, the zanpakuto riding upon young shinigami's soul went back to make report to its master.

* * *

***Actually, the most difficult part was having Shunsui say that Muramasa can afford to be arrogant because he did fool Gotei 13 before. I found myself thinking: **_**"Yeah…but it's not like it's TOO difficult…So far, pretty much EVERYONE has screwed around with Gotei 13… The avg. IQ definitely took a dip when Urahara and Aizen defected…" **_


	4. Chapter 4 Pushing Shadows

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. ****Bleach and all its characters are the property of Kubo Tite.**

**Note: And now the head-clutching begins…er, actually, **_**extends**_**… This is one of those chapters where I have to worry about something like a plot and when I plug one hole, multiple holes appear… I've sort of emptied my mind about this particular chapter. When I come to my senses, I might examine it again. **

**Note 2: I realized that I set the past event **_**waaaaaaay**_** too far back. Since the event with Kouga was 'several hundreds years ago' and the shinigami have long lifespan… I thought I'd take it back but then, 'Turn Back the Pendulum' arc was a hundred years ago and all the shinigami that were kids back then are now fully grown! **

**Zangetsu50 – Now there's a thought… o.0 The idea actually didn't occur to me because the mind-controlling thing has its limitations and was actually more like a 'side-effect' to certain things. But it's definitely intriguing and there's always a possibility (Yeah, Ichigo's power under control of wrong hands? **_**Definitely**_** will screw soul society). Thank you for the idea!**

**As always, THANK YOU for such kind reviews. And I sincerely thank everyone who reads the work!**

* * *

We treat memories as hazy clouds upon distant skies,  
When we know they are really clutching hands  
That reach out from cracks beneath our feet.

* * *

Chapter 4

Pushing Shadows

* * *

There's a price, always.

They were aware of this when they started. That does not make it any easier to bear the consequences.

"I disgust you, don't I?"

At the being's – accusation – the man cringes. It is now a habitual reaction whenever he is in front of – this _thing_ that once was his family. It laughs.

"No matter. I like the fear that comes with it. I still want more."

He is aware of other figures that fill the room, shrouded in darkness. Only he himself sits inside a small circle of lamplight. He almost smiles to himself at the irony. 'You brought this darkness, yet you struggle to keep yourself in the light?'

He despises the way words crawl out of his throat, the way they croak.

"The Gotei 13… have begun to notice… and the Central 46… now seem to be alert. They may have… already taken steps."

"All the more reason for us to prepare, is it not?"

"I… will have to discuss with the others."

It is the last bit of his dignity that makes him rise before any permission is given. And the being gives no words, as if it had read his thoughts. The man turns. He tries to reach out his mind into the darkness, among the figures that surround him. As expected, it is of no use. The bond is gone. He is no longer even able to spot among them what _used to be_ his zanpakuto.

"You're free to fool yourself, you and the others. But you must admit it seems a trifle pathetic."

The man turns at that, and is met by the thing's smile that the light reflects. He could see the redness of the flesh through slightly parted lips and it feels like seeing a heap of bloody meat.

"You wanted this. You still want it. After all this, you still want to see where this will lead. Do not worry. I'll see to it that you do."

The man sees the white flash of teeth in the thing's mouth. They are no animal's incisures, no unnatural sharpness. They're blunt, plain, and ordinary. The man feels as if he'd retch and, to his bitter astonishment, a sense of pride creeping up as he sees what he and the others have accomplished.

"And I still want them. You do as well. Especially… that one. The one they call the demon."

The smile widens.

"Yes, I want _that_ one."

* * *

"What are the disadvantages of a zanpakuto?"

The question came out of nowhere and everyone stopped to stare at the back of the white zanpakuto spirit, who continued down the hallway without any reaction. Even Ichigo, who had been walking a little apart with a brooding expression due to an earlier conversation (Captain Ukitake wanted Muramasa in his physical form to gain information from him directly. When Ichigo continually asked Muramasa whether this wasn't taxing him, Muramasa had replied: "You're my wielder, not my mother hen."), looked up, surprise evident.

The four shinigmai then looked at each other. Ukitake had volunteered as a representative of the captains to hear what information the zanpakuto spirit could offer - although it was obvious that Sogyo no Kotowari had their own opinion about this, judging from the occasional twitch that occurred in his usually peaceful features.

Renji and Rukia had joined in because they insisted that they held responsibility as well. Rukia betrayed no surprise at what the substitute shinigami had done but Renji was struck speechless. Then he had all but hauled up Ichigo and shook him so much – saying that the 'bastard' must have hypnotized the teen and that he must pummel some sense into him – that Rukia had to calm him down by way of knocking him unconscious for a while.

Whatever they had expected to hear from the zanpakuto spirit, this was definitely not it. The four quickly caught up to the white figure already well ahead of them. Ichigo managed to speak.

"Um, disadvantages?"

"Yes, what disadvantages does a zanpakuto have as a choice of weapon in comparison to… say, an ordinary knife?"

The shinigami almost paused again and this time, Muramasa stopped as well, but only because the hallway diverged in two paths. Remembering that _they_ were the ones supposed to be leading, the shinigami stepped in front again. Renji, of all people, grumbled out first.

"You mean apart from the possibility of them being controlled by some '_freak of nature_**' **and turning against their own wielders?"

Before either Ichigo or Rukia could interject, Muramasa nodded assent, surprising all of them.

"There certainly is that. But even without my… influence, a zanpakuto might not comply with the wielder's wishes _all the time_. Complete obedience may seem a bit lacking when a being with a mind of its own is concerned. Anything else?"

The shinigami automatically scrunched up their faces in thought. 'Just like students in a classroom when asked a question by an instructor.' Ichigo mused. Obviously, others were running on similar thoughts because Rukia nearly raised a hand and caught herself just before.

"Well…I suppose only a few shinigami ever realize the full potential of their zanpakutos… After all, so few ever reach bankai. But it's just something natural."

"There are some who may think all that unrealized potential a waste. What else?"

Before anyone can ask what the zanpakuto exactly meant by _that_, Ukitake unexpectedly spoke.

"A zanpakuto can only be used by its wielder and no one else. And no shinigami can wield someone else's zanpakuto. A zanpakuto is born within the shinigami and dies with the shinigami. And that makes us **very** special."

Even Muramasa turned to look at Ukitake. The captain smiled a little embarrassingly, saying, 'The last bit was from the Sogyo no Kotowari.,' Muramasa turned again and started down the hallway.

"Exactly, the relationship between a zanpakuto and the wielder is, as you all know, that of partnership, not ownership. So, such are the issues: a zanpaktuo may not be counted on for complete obedience, it may not reach its full potential, and a zanpakuto is tied its specific wielder – and when that wielder dies, the zanpakuto is also gone, forever."

If Murmasa heard Renji mutter 'present company excepted… regrettably', he ignored it.

"But… those are not disadvantages. That's simply what a zanpakuto _is. _It's their nature."

At Ichigo's words, Muramasa replied while still looking straight ahead.

"Some apparently concluded such aspects of a zanpakuto were rather… 'inefficient'. And accordingly, they sought solutions to remedy the situation."

Even Renji turned to look up at the zanpakuto, who continued.

"9 hundred years ago, certain members of powerful families conducted an experiment. Its most basic goal can be summarized as this: Transferring zanpaktos to a desired shinigami – making it possible for one shinigami to wield multiple zanpakutos to their fullest potential and under the said shinigami's complete control."

Muramasa turned his head just a little to offer a thin smile to the bewildered faces.

"Like owning a _lot _of knives, except decidedly deadlier."

"But…. but that's impossible! A zanpakuto is born out of a shinigami's soul. You cannot separate a zanpakuto just like…"

Rukia stopped as she realized that what the being beside her did was _exactly_ what she just stated as impossible. Seemingly reading her thoughts, Muramasa continued.

"I don't pretend to know the details of the process. I believe the basic idea was similar. My ability disrupts the bond between the wielder and the zapakto. The experiment found a way to completely 'sever' that bond and take the zanpakuto out of the shinigmai. Then all they needed to do was re-configure the bond to another wielder deemed more… worthy."

"_**Worthy?"**_

Renji nearly snarled and Muramasa flicked a glance at him.

"I'm merely repeating what I heard at the time."

"But… how is this different from, say, my case? I mean… technically, now I'm with two zanpakutos."

Muramasa fixed Ichigo a look that Ichigo had no idea how to interpret.

"This is a peculiar case, yes. But the basic principal is the same as with any shinigami and a zanpakuto. You and I have a mutual agreement. And I wasn't exactly… 'forced' to be separated from my original wielder to be 'assigned' to someone else."

Ichigo found himself tensing involuntarily at the zanpakuto's last sentence, but Muramasa had already moved on.

"The experiment was more comparable to prying out a knife from one's hands to give it to another. Of course, there were other aspects to it. One consisted of artificially strengthening the new bond – forcing the zanpakutos to obey the wielder no matter what. Theoretically, the strengthened bond would also lend more chance to achieving bankai."

Ukitake murmured.

"A mass weaponization of zanpaktuos… All under the absolute control of a few chosen shinigami."

"That would NEVER have been advocated, by any others or the Central 46…"

Rukia cried, indignant, and was immediately astonished to hear Ukitake mutter:

"No, I can see how that idea… might have had a following."

"Captain..!"

"Most zanpakutos never reach their fullest power. You said yourself, how many actually reach bankai? Some never learn their zanpaktuos' names and some never even realize they have a zanapakuto waiting to be awakened. If there was a way to transfer the zanpakutos to a more 'experienced' shinigmai and strengthen the bond to achieve each and every zanpakuto's full potential… then it is possible that no zanpakuto will ever be lost. Not even when the shinigami dies - because the zanpakuto can simply be transferred to someone else. That'd mean the ultimate preservation of the most prominent power in Seireitei. I can see how it may convince the Central 46."

Confronting the shocked expressions of the three young shinigami, Ukitake held up a hand. And from the way he winced as he did so, obviously the 'twins' were giving him an earful (or, 'mind'-ful) as well.

"I'm not saying it is _**right.**_ Nor will I ever consider doing it myself. But the Central 46 _have _protected certain weapon-making families before just because of the sheer military advantage they brought to Seireitei. It's not impossible that they were willing to listen to the idea."

"But the zanpakutos! Forced into complete obedience? Doesn't that go completely against the nature of a shinigami and a zanpakuto?"

"The last time I checked, the rights of a zanpakuto weren't exactly among the top priorities of Seireitei."

Ichigo whipped his head around to snap something at Muramasa but lost his chance when the zanpakuto took his hand out the folds of his robe and gestured.

"The experiment wasn't completely successful, though."

Everyone's attention was back on the zanpakuto.

"One problem is obvious. Even when one has countless weapons at one's disposal, it's rather bothersome to wield them all of them at once. Besides, they found that the spiritual reserve of one person could constantly support only so many zanpakutos. The alternative? Storing the zanpakutos in another 'container'"

A recent memory hit the shinigami.

"The shinigami… possessed by zanpakutos…"

"It was a more crude variation of the artificial bond they created initially. This way, the zanpakutos could be kept functioning somewhat independent of their wielder once the wielder gave them an order. I suppose one can call these…'containers' as 'secondary wielders'. The possession, as you call it, depends on the reiatsu of the shinigami. The stronger the shinigami is, the more difficult it is for them to be taken."

"However, once the shinigami is taken, their original capacity would be irrelevant? Would the zanpakuto's power still manifest itself to the fullest?"

At Ukitake's question, Muramasa nodded.

"Of course, steps were taken to repress the shinigami's own soul so as not to interfere with the zanapkuto and the wielder. Otherwise it rather defeats the purpose. The unfortunate side effect was that more often than not, the secondary wielder's soul was completely lost."

"And they still continued on with this… experiment? At such a consequence?"

At Rukia's outburst, Muramasa gave a slight shrug.

"That was just a temporary measure until a more 'suitable' solution was found. They were so close, after all."

"And how were they able to keep this up?!"

"In the beginning, the whole experiment was confined within families and the test subjects were on 'volunteer basis', you could say. But it just wasn't enough. They soon found that they needed a fresh supply of shinigami from other resources, for various reasons."

"_Fresh __**supply**__? Other resources?!"_

Renji's furious cry seemed to go unnoticed by the zanpakuto spirit.

"As they were distinguished and influential families with certain ties, they were able to afford it for a time. I believe it took a while for _you_ to notice the current disappearances, as well?"

Rukia and Renji were about to say something but were startled by both Captain Ukitake and Muramasa as they both stopped abruptly. Muramasa spoke:

"At some point, everything _did_ start to get out control… But first, I should examine a certain zanapkuto you captured, shan't I?"

The three shinigami realized that they were already in front of Captain Kurotsuchi's lab. Possibly the last place anyone wanted to find themselves in.

* * *

***Yes, an almost entirely expository chapter… (and everyone talking too much because of explanations… especially Muramasa!) One of those parts that sets up the ground for things to come. **


	5. Chapter 5 Greetings from Ghosts 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. ****Bleach and all its characters are the property of Kubo Tite.**

**Note: Gah, this chapter didn't want to be written. Once again, the 'plot'… is problematic. I'm finding that I dug so many holes for myself in the last chapters. **

**I think this was the longest interval between the chapters… This is another problem because I lose focus easily ****. However, I have this work's main scenes pretty much envisioned already so I really hope I can get to the end of this, no matter what. **

**Note 2: I actually had to divide this chapter into two parts – it got way too long. **

**It's a little late but thank you SO much for the wonderful reviews so far.**

**And big thanks to everyone who reads my work, as always!**

* * *

And when I reach out from under the cold, black earth,  
With worm – eaten hands where flesh cascades like dead petals,  
Will you still hold me?

* * *

**Chapter 5**

**Greetings from Ghosts**

* * *

"So you're the new boy that I heard so much about."

A voice, old but possessing innate strength. Old the way a mountain is. The voice continues, booming and genial.

"Incredible, you can just reach out to me like **that?** Never seen anything like it. And I hear that you can turn me against my wielder? Now that _will_ be a sight to see…"

The other presence offers no acknowledgement but this does not deter the voice.

"So, do we just remain as disembodied voices, or is there something more?"

For the first time, the quiet, almost serene presence makes itself known vocally – it is inapproachable, aloof.

"Are we to continue this idle conversation?"

"I was hoping."

The cheerful and direct answer seems to momentarily catch the other presence off-guard. Chuckling, the voice like the mountain goes on.

"Ah, let's just leave our wielders spar by themselves a little. A plain, ordinary swordplay will be good for my wielder's old bones. I know your wielder didn't release into shikai. You just reached out to me on your own to… test the waters, so to speak?"

Silence answers the voice.

"Ah, well, if you must - you can do whatever you want with me. I told my wielder I'm talking a break and he knows that the only being lazier than him is me. So what's it going to be?"

Something like a sigh softly ripples through the dark space. Then smoky tendrils begin to 'muddy' the darkness, like a drop of ink spilled on the surface of a glassy pond. A tall, slender figure stands on a rocky, deserted hill. It is draped in a white robe that almost seems to glow in the hazy atmosphere where the sunlight begins its lazy battle with the stubborn last stand of the night.

Another figure emerges – a brown-skinned giant with long grey hair which is closer to mane. It blinks and takes in the surroundings.

"Well, I'll be. So it really **is** possible… You can pull me out from my wielder's inner world and… what, you just materialized me?"

The giant's amazement as it looks around is almost like that of a child gawking at a place it's never been before. Then he breaks into large, unassuming strides until he stands close to the white figure, looking down at the pale face. The giant tilts his great head as he studies the figure before him, and then looks down at his own form and points to himself.

"This isn't how I usually look to my wielder."

The white figure stays quiet for a moment and seems to decide that there is no reason not to give an answer.

"Your usual form is inevitably linked to your wielder, filtered through his soul. I do not know why you take such a form now, except that the form you take depends on what you truly are."

"And I get a lecture on myself by a fresh spirit who isn't half my age. But I suppose with us, it never really matters. We grow old as how we like it, no?"

The white figure seems disinterested in that particular assessment and he goes on as if he didn't hear the giant's last remark.

"You say you heard about me… Not many know about me yet."

The grey-haired giant's smile turns into something more deliberate, yet losing none of its good-natured playfulness.

"Ah, us old fogies. We may creak and bend like un-oiled floorboards and it takes a while to get us onto our feet. But even as we sit back and relax, some things reach us faster than they do to others. And I hear your wielder is starting to make himself known. A promising boy. And a fledgling who just discovered his shikai, at that."

The white figure concedes to a slight frown and the giant grins wider.

"Ah, _that _gets to you. Devoted to your young wielder, are you?"

"Aren't you?"

"Us? we're a bickering old couple, my wielder and I. Growing old together just because we really don't have a choice. Taking little pleasures like gossiping and listening. And we hear that you're unique, that you're dangerous. "

The giant manages something like a smirk – and there's a brief, almost dangerous glint in the mildness of his grey eyes.

"That you're a demon."

The blue-green gaze of the white figure is unperturbed. The giant quickly dissolves his slightly malicious sneer into a laugh and a wink.

"Although I wouldn't mind being tempted by a demon such as you."

The frown this time is more pronounced. As the giant laughs even more, the white figure tilts his head, truly scrutinizing the giant for the first time.

"You're a strange one, yourself."

The giant grins as if he received a compliment.

"Well, although you did reach out to me without so much as a 'May I'… still, can't say I've exactly kept my manners. My name is…"

"I already know."

That surprises the giant. And this time, the smile is a little bitter as he mutters, 'Ah, so _that's _your ability too, is it?'. But there is no fear in it. Something the other finds, despite himself, refreshing. The giant speaks as he dons a sweeping bow.

"Well, I give it to you anyway. Call it a common courtesy. Old Kumodo, at your service."

* * *

"I don't need him laid out on my examination table in _entirety_… At least, not at the moment. Just a part will do. An arm, a leg. At least an eye. Perhaps just a preliminary scan? No reason to _worry_ so much."

Ichigo failed to find any words from the 12th division Captain that **didn't** prove worrying. Even the articles such as 'the' or 'a' came loaded with disconcerting images – mostly involving sharp instruments whose purposes included piercing and poking into places where one dared not imagine.

Consequently, Ichigo found himself constantly trying to get between Captain Kurotsuchi and Muramasa. The latter had largely ignored the… 'interest' he caused in arguably the most dangerous captain of all Gotei 13.

On a table at the center of the room lay a sword – encased in a seal that emitted a faint greenish glow.

Ukitake, when he had finished, or rather, gave up on, urging Mayuri to put aside his zeal for his research for the moment, pointed to the sealed zanpakuto.

"This is the rogue zanpakuto we managed to capture. You can probably sense its reiatsu because Captain Kurotsuchi just adjusted the seal for it. We found a record on this one and we were wondering whether you knew…"

"Kumodo."

Everyone looked at Muramasa. The zanpakuto spirit stood still, gazing down at the sealed sword.

"Yes, I knew him."

Renji huffed.

"Yeah? What did you do to _him_?"

Renji did not meet the glares from Rukia and Ichigo. If he had, they would have fried him on the spot. Seemingly unaffected, Muramasa answered in his typical quiet manner.

"Nothing. There never was any need for me to subdue or control him."

Ichigo wondered if he imagined a certain tone in Muramasa's voice. Again, there was that fleeting impression he had of the zanpakuto spirit when he was sitting in the sealed room before – that particular moment of fragility and distance.

_A ghost._

Ichigo hesitated, then ventured.

"Was he… a friend?"

Silence reigned for a moment, except for Mayuri's constant musings about what he'd do with the zanpakuto spirit when he had a chance. When Ichigo began to be sure that he had just stepped on a ground better left unexplored, Muramasa spoke.

"As close to such a thing as I ever had, I suppose."

Renji folded his arms and scoffed.

"One you wouldn't think twice about offing if he stood in your way or your wielder's, I'm sure."

"Probably."

The quick, easy assent actually startled the red-haired shinigami. The fact did not stop Ichigo and Rukia from firing razor glares at him once more. Of all people, Mayuri was the one who served to break the heavy atmosphere.

"You see, it only emanates a most basic reiatsu – hardly noticeable. What is most curious is that we cannot find any trace of the possessed shinigami's original zanpakuto-."

"Likely, here."

One of Muramasa's long nails idly pointed at the zanpakuto they were examining.

"In a manner of speaking."

Muramasa looked up at the series of uncomprehending faces.

"Remember I said that 'secondary wielders' were temporary measures until another solution was found? Well, this was a kind of solution. A zanpakuto could 'consume' another zanpakuto so that its powers would merge with the 'devourer'. Or it could just have the zanpakuto sealed inside for its wielder to use when necessary. There was a limit to this and sometimes the devoured zanpakuto was destroyed completely, but it is better than acquiring one shinigami for every zanpakuto. And no waste, either."

Mayuri rubbed his chin thoughtfully while others stood appalled, staring at what was apparently proven as a rogue – mind-controlling – zombie – _cannibal_ zanpakuto. Ichigo shook his head.

"Just how far did this experiment go? I mean…it just seems like they created really unstable…"

'**Monsters'. **The word died in his throat as he abruptly thought about the hollow inside him, his own monster. Muramasa continued as if unaware of the teen's faltering.

"Many of the…'success' cases were zanpakutos from the families themselves. As their chosen 'wielder' was from the family as well, there seems to have been a certain 'affinity'. Such zanpakutos residing inside the secondary wielders were capable of acting with minds of their own while still obeying their assigned wielder unquestioningly. Like having a very royal army, in a way. But there were others…"

Muramasa almost tapped at the seal that held the rogue zanpakuto.

"How was the possessed shinigami when you first encountered him?"

Rukia offered the answer:

"Not… himself. Not acting normally. The report said he acted almost like an animal. No speech, only capable of fighting. Almost like a Gillian, actually."

Muramasa gave a slight nod.

"The successful cases could act more or less like a 'normal' shinigami. But there were other zanpakutos that rebelled against the artificial bond, refusing to submit to the wielder. To make such zanpakutos more… 'cooperative', they took away a large part of their 'being'. Leaving just the very essence of the zanpakuto, just enough for it to use its ability. It tended to make the zanpakuto's performance suffer somewhat, and it definitely couldn't act 'normally' within the body of its secondary wielder."

The smirk on Muramasa's face was bitter.

"This cannot technically be called Kumodo anymore. It's just something with Kumodo's ability and the memory of using such ability."

"So… you cannot…communicate with… him?"

At Ukitake's question, Muramasa turned.

"I'm afraid 'he' is not capable of communication. Whatever's there has the intellect of an insect. Right now, it just functions on two urges: To exist and to obey."

Rukia and Ichigo looked at each other. It's like peeling layers, Ichigo thought. After each layer, there's something more rotten, something uglier lurking. It's that apprehension you feel when you're just about to lift that rock to find a nest of vipers underneath.

Mayuri, still rubbing his chin, peered at the blade in fascination.

"To exist, eh? I suppose that is why it was absorbing hollows and humans with considerable spiritual energy?"

"I'm not sure about that. I know zanpakutos with such… 'operation' done to them often took up more spiritual energy… Possibly to instinctively make up for the loss bestowed onto them. So yes, perhaps it found a new way to substitute for the need for such energy."

"So… You can't even materialize… Kumodo?"

As Ukitake tried again, Muramasa gave a milder smile.

"I _could._ But it'll be unpleasant, both visually and practically. At best, it'll be a shapeless mass which'll try to prey on the nearest source of spiritual energy available. Not really of any use to you."

"At this point, neither are you."

This time, Rukia didn't even spare a glance at the red-haired shinigami as she muttered.

"Renji, I'd be surprised if even Zabimaru isn't scolding you."

This may have struck close to home as Renji visibly deflated and settled into sullen silence. Muramasa spoke again.

"I 'may' be able to reach the devoured zanpakuto, if it's even there still. And there's no telling what state it is in."

Ukitake gestured with both hands.

"Anything's worth a try, at this point."

Obviously unwilling to let any matter that was happening in his own lab proceed without his involvement, Mayuri declared:

"Wait, let me at least hook him up so I can check the flow of the reiatsu. It's fascinating how his manipulation works. Nemu!"

"Yes, Mayuri-sama."

The vice captain of the 12th division seemingly materialized out of the semi-darkness, nearly making Renji jump.

"Nemu, hook that zanpakuto spirit up so that we can get an exact reading… "

"Wait, wait!"

Ichigo stepped in the way and nearly had his head neatly severed by a clean hand-stroke.

"Please, do be quiet in the lab."

Even as his eyes kept gravitating to the lean and deadly hand that hovered inches before his face, Ichigo managed to put forward some questions he felt were crucial.

"Hook him up **where?** With **what?**"

"Um, surely that won't prove… 'too' harmful, I'm sure. You don't have to worry so much, Ichigo."

Captain Ukitake's smile that was almost like a spasm belied his words. Ichigo could see that the captain's whole body and facial language spoke something more in the lines of: 'Please? I really don't think we can hold him off any longer.' Looking behind Captain Ukitake, Ichigo was inclined to agree. The grinning visage of Captain Kurotsuchi, aglow with depraved and unstoppable scientific enthusiasm, was a sight Ichigo wasn't soon going to forget, and not for lack of trying. Granted, this made Ichigo even _less_ willing.

"I just…"

"Cluck, cluck."

Ichigo whipped his head towards the red-haired shinigami who gave him a rather malicious grin. Obviously, Renji was quite willing to use even the zanpakuto spirit's earlier comment for his own purposes.

Ichigo felt an even deeper pang of betrayal as he saw Muramasa already extending his arm out to Nemu, who had already abandoned the job of decapitating the loud teen in favor of carefully attaching complicated wirework to the zanpakuto spirit. Outnumbered, Ichigo threw his hands up and glared at the zanpakuto spirit who seemed quite complacent towards the whole procedure.

"Oh, all right. Just don't say I didn't do my best if you end up missing a few limbs or end up with a few extra ones. Worse yet, if your mind ends up in some place that I won't even try to imagine, don't drag me along for the ride just because I'm your wielder now."

"Warning duly noted, Kurosaki Ichigo."

Nemu held the zanpakuto's arm in one hand as her other hand deftly attached the various-colored wires to it. Done in a matter of seconds, Nemu let go of the arm to do the same on the opposite side. Except she couldn't.

Long-nailed fingers were curled around her wrist in an iron grip.

"On second thought…"

Muramasa's voice was as calm as ever, however…

"Perhaps this can wait, after all."

And there _was _a subtle shift in his tone, carrying something chilly and sharp and contemplative. Everyone immediately snapped to attention. Renji already had his hand on Zabimaru as he growled.

"What do you think you're doing, you…"

Muramasa's gaze did not move from the vice captain he held.

"Kurosaki Ichigo. You should be able to see it, because you're now connected to me."

Ichigo blinked and was about to shout what the hell was going on when he **did** see it.

"Wha… what the hell are _those?_"

Now everyone turned to Ichigo. Ichigo met their confused looks and realized that none of them could see it. Iridescent strings clinging all over Nemu's body – from head to fingertips and all the way down to toes – leading out of the lab. Each cobweb-thin line thrummed with the barest traces of…

"…Reiatsu?"

The smile on Muramasa's lips was almost feral.

"I did not recognize it myself until she touched me. A remnant of Kumodo and now this? It really is like seeing ghosts."

Before anybody could ask what Muramasa was talking about, the voice of Captain Kurotsuchi shot through like a jagged knife across taut nerves.

"What is _that _doing here?"

A figure stood in the doorway, slightly hunched over – resembling an emaciated bear about to strike - dragging something apparently heavy behind. Ichigo noticed another aspect that no other shinigami did – the figure, also, was covered in reiatsu-thrumming cobwebs.

Several things happened at once.

Faster than the blink of an eye, the intruder hurled what he was carrying into the middle of the room. The shinigami dispersed as the thrown object landed with complicated noises - sending debris of indescribable contraptions and devices. Then everyone's eyes widened as they noted it was a dead shinigami. There was no doubt - no one alive could have his head crooked at such an angle. At the same time, Nemu whirled to face Muramasa and in one fluid movement, _cut her own arm off_ that was held captive. Then, without stopping, and heedless of her one arm which now ended in a stump, she somersaulted backwards to land on the other side of the lab. Then she turned to one of the numerous devices, her one hand moving with mercurial speed.

The intruder was already moving once he'd hurled the unwelcome present. It kicked the floor and launched itself. Just before the corpse had landed, it bodily crashed into Mayuri, sending the unprepared captain stumbling backwards. Even then, it didn't stop as it advanced – nearly running on all fours. At that moment, Nemu's hand stopped and she turned as the seal that encased the rogue zanpakuto lifted. She grasped it and flung it into the air. The intruder caught the flung zanpakuto in mid-jump and landed, cat-like, onto the floor.

All this happened in a few seconds.

At this point, the astonishment on vice-captain Nemu's face and the glazed look on the intruder were apparent to all. Ichigo felt that – perhaps because he could see the phantom cobwebs – despite their lightening-speed, both didn't move so much as 'convulse'.

_As if somebody else was pulling the strings…._

Muramasa stood still, eyes on the intruder as if to burrow holes into it.

"The 'possessed' shinigami, I presume."

Rukia stuttered.

"But he wasn't even alive! His soul was gone. And he was locked in a guarded cell…"

At that moment, Rukia took a first good look at the dead body splayed over the lab floor and bit her mouth. It wasn't difficult to guess the fate of those guards. By now, everyone had grabbed their zanpakutos, facing the 'possessed' shinigami holding Kumodo. Nemu stood between them, normally expressionless face tinted with what bewilderment she was capable of.

"Mayuri-sama, I…can't…"

Mayuri again rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Interesting, doesn't seem like she's brainwashed, yet… Kurosaki Ichigo, what _are _you seeing?"

"Strings… thin strings of reiatsu, all over both of them."

Before anyone could react to this information, Muramasa stepped forward.

"Is that you, Puppeteer?"

The possessed shinigami shifted his stance. Then he gave a shudder like he was going through a fit – ending with his head almost dropping to his chest – like an automaton switched off.

Then the shinigami slowly began to lift his head, each muscle unfolding as if he was stretching himself after waking from a deep sleep. The mouth parted to let out a sigh and a voice.

"And we were just going to leave _quietly_…. when it wasn't so crowded."

As the shinigami stood to his full height, he shook himself as a dog does after coming out from a swim. As he did so, Ichigo saw the reiatsu-charged strands fall away, disappearing before they touched the ground. The shinigami snapped his fingers and Ichigo could also see the strings falling away from Nemu to disintegrate. Nemu immediately dropped down, unconscious. The shinigami now stood with a skewed grin, his eyes still closed. He languidly ran a hand over his face.

"But then, you notice this little trick and recognize the Puppeteer. Now you got me all interested…"

The shinigami spoke in a lazy drawl, the voice somehow cheerful - enjoying a private joke at someone else's expense. Muramasa addressed the shinigami again.

"You are not the Puppeteer. I sense his work but you're not him. Nor are you Kumodo. Who are you?"

A short, bark-like laugh escaped from the shinigami.

"Aptly observed! But really, I should be asking that question. Who are _you_?"

The shinigami's eyes finally opened as his hand swept up his hair. The glazed look was replaced with too-clear black eyes that shone with definite intelligence and purpose. No one doubted that it was someone – _something_ – else was behind those eyes. The eyes fixed themselves on Muramasa, and widened.

"**You!?"**

The shinigami stood frozen for a moment, then its mouth tore itself into a grin.

"_**You?"**_

The shinigami – or whatever that was inside him – burst into laughter. There was genuine surprise and pure delight – a child's laugh. Except it got mangled through vocal cords that wasn't designed for such sound, lending eerie quality that raked down one's spine in a wrong way. The laugh finally subsided, the shinigami-thing's shoulders still heaving with barely controlled mirth. Muramasa remained impassive as he spoke.

"I ask you again, who are you?"

The shinigami-thing leaned forward, eyes gleaming.

"Ah, you recognize the Puppeteer and you ask me who I am? Surely you remember? Is…_ this_ not familiar?"

Something descended.

Like being slowly pushed into the ground by an invisible, monstrous hand – but the dense weight of such force was not the whole of it.

"What the… this, this can't be reiatsu…!"

Renji then bent double, almost dropping to his knees, fist shoving into the mouth so hard that his own teeth must have torn his knuckles. Even the captains had braced themselves against the walls. Rukia stumbled forward, covering her mouth with both hands.

Ichigo had experienced stronger, more stifling reiatsu before. But he had never experienced anything _worse._

It was the most _repulsive_ reiatsu he'd ever felt.

It brought to mind images such as a mound of bloody, rotting meat and having one's head shoved into it - feeling some parts of it still pulsating, flowing with some terrible un-life. It leaked through every pore in Ichigo's body, crawled along his veins, and snuck into every nerve, staining him like splattered blood. Ichigo smelled and tasted his own vile and almost vomited there and then.

Only Muramasa stood still, his gaze unwavering.

"I recognize _this _well enough. I know it. I also know that '_thing'_ is dead. I've seen its head split apart, its heart torn, its flesh ripped apart – part of it my own doing."

To everyone's amazement, Muramasa stepped forward again.

"Every member of the Kuzumori, Shizuku, Marabochi clan that were involved is no more. I've felt their lifeblood flow along my blade."

Through watery, hazy vision, Ichigo spotted Ukitake flinch.

"Kuzumori…Shizuku…?"

Oblivious to Ukitake's shocked utterances, Muramasa kept walking until he was within a sword-striking distance from the smiling shinigami. The grin on the possessed shinigami became wider, almost to the point that it split the whole face in half.

"Ah, but old friend! Does not the past cast a long shadow? Sometimes casting it forward to haul itself back to the present!"

Muramasa's voice was as clear and hard as a blade as he addressed the creature again.

"You deem to know me, but I do not know you. I ask you for the third and last time, who are you?"

"It is a more difficult question than you think, my friend! And demands an answer that is more complicated than you'd expect. However…"

The shinigami's eyes narrowed, then they flicked sideways to sight Ukitake managing to grip the hilt of Sogyo no Kotowari.

"The time and place is... less than appropriate for such a lengthy and philosophically engaging discussion."

The shinigami-thing brought Kumodo forward, blade down. Looking directly at Muramasa with a glint in its eye, it murmured.

"Collide, Kumodo."

The zanpakuto exploded in an array of light which merged into several azure flashes that leapt around the whole room like hordes of attacking snakes – leaving smoky trails of afterimages in their wake. Then everyone realized that they weren't afterimages.

The hazy stains hovering in empty air began to thicken, taking form – to the point where the blooming mist–mass interfered with the vision. Through the rapidly narrowing view, Ichigo could barely see Kumodo's shikai form – a blade vaguely resembling a scimitar, almost as tall and as wide as the one wielding it. The ribbons of azure light had now disappeared into the thickened mist – or more appropriately, 'clouds' – where brief but continuous light flashes burned at the fogged eyes. The shinigami-thing swung the scimitar into one of the cloudy masses, the huge steel edge meeting the speeding azure light inside. There was a thunderous crack – which became an actual thunder. The impact with the blade dispersed the light in all directions – sending veritable lightening strikes everywhere. Inside the mist-cloud, already losing sight of each other, the group resorted to ducking the deadly currents that crisscrossed and zigzagged in a frantic dance. Then one lightening flash came down like a pillar, 'cutting' the lab in half and breaking into hundreds of smaller flashes that destroyed everything in its violent wake. Kurotsuchi Mayuri screamed with an emotion that no-one would have thought capable of him.

"_My __**LAB!!!**__"_

Ironically, that scream brought everyone back to a somewhat functional state. Risking the rampant lightening and the cloud-mist that blocked the view, Ukitake and Renji darted forward – the latter grabbing unconscious Nemu and Ukitake getting hold of Mayuri, who might as well have been unconscious out of pure shock at seeing his precious lab destroyed. The series of blind shunpo that followed was unlikely to be cited as an example in any course at the Shinigami Academy, but it did its job. In a few seconds, everyone had all but collapsed outside the 12th division compound – watching two thirds of the lab crumbling apart. Panting, Renji looked around, was about to shout, gagged, and settled for gurgling out:

"Where… is that… that…_thing_?"

Rukia, already surveying the surroundings more carefully, noticed further absences.

"Where…?"

* * *

***On to part 2… **


	6. Chapter 6 Greetings from Ghosts 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. ****Bleach and all of its characters are the property of Kubo Tite.**

**Note no. 1: I can't believe I originally planned chapters 4 and 5 as a single chapter. I never expected these to get this long. And this is the longest chapter of them all. **

******Note no. **2: From now on, I'll NEVER criticize any anime or manga for their action scenes. If _**writing**_** it is this hard, I cannot imagine how animating it'd be. **

**It's been a while since the last chapter… belated thanks for all the kind reviews! **

**And, as always, thank you for reading!**

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Chapter 6: Greetings from Ghosts - 2

* * *

The thing that rode on where the hapless shinigami's soul used to reside jumped from roof to roof. A carrion bird flying unnoticed.

Then it stopped its flight and landed on one of the taller buildings.

Just on the opposite tower stood a figure, clothed in white.

The current occupant of the shinigami's body smiled, carelessly dropping its enormous scimitar to rest at its side as Muramasa spoke:

"That was Kumodo's favorite trick. Instant chaos to enemies and easy escape for himself."

The shinigami lightly dragged the scimitar along the roof, grinning as it studied the blade's jagged passage.

"Just looking at him, you'd think: no brain, pure brawn. But, there was a streak of strategist in him, wasn't there?"

"No, just laziness."

The thing inside the shinigami laughed, casually rubbing the back of its neck with its free hand.

"Well, now… if you chased me all the way here just to wave goodbye… that would be nice, yet oddly… disappointing."

Wordlessly, Muramasa brought one hand forward. The air in front of it split – a cut that bled light – taking the form of a sword. Muramasa's hand closed around the hilt. The smiling shinigami slightly shifted the weight of its scimitar.

"And, if I recall correctly, you were never one for niceties but _NEVER_ disappointing."

Then both figures were gone…

…To reappear up in the air, steels clashing. Muramasa's sword seemed like a blade of grass against the broad scimitar but it met every attack, unflinching. The two seemed to hang suspended by sheer momentum, until they pushed off from each other, landing on top of another building. As it landed, the shinigami spun on its heels – the scimitar screaming as it gouged circular grooves into the stonework. The blade shot upwards along with a torrent of broken stones.

The roaring attack bit at empty air.

The shinigami-thing, without stopping, changed its steps into a jerky, impossible dance and kicked off forward – covering the distance between it and its missed target at once. Steels clashed again and as they ground and growled against each other, the shinigami brought its face forward - close enough so that its breath frosted over both surfaces of the blades.

"Well, I really should treat you to something better than this… A little gift for an old friend."

For a fleeting second, there was that glazed look again on shinigami's face – gone like an illusion. The eyes became clear once again but it held none of its previous onyx-black sharpness and cruel delight, containing only benign confusion. Then those eyes fixed on the blue-green eyes right in front.

"Mura…masa?"

A completely different voice. A deep, gentle rumble suffering inside the too-thin, too-weak throat. For the first time, Muramasa's gaze wavered, and his voice held a cautious disbelief.

"… Kumodo?"

The shinigami looked at the crossed blades as if he didn't know what they were.

"What…? How…?"

Then he flinched and stumbled back ungraciously. Strength seeped out from his arms and the sword hung limp from unwilling fingers. Muramasa took a step towards him. The shinigami shook his head and, with a shudder, let go of the hilt altogether. Muramasa took one more step – reaching out with his mind as he did so –.

- The shinigami's hand snatched up the falling scimitar like a striking snake. The sword swung out in a wide arc, releasing burst of energy. Muramasa quickly brought up his own blade just in time to deflect the blow enough to step away from its destructive path. The shinigami materialized right in front of him, bringing up the scimitar with effortless ease. Blades met again and again, the two figures dancing to their deadly rhythm, nearly gliding along the rooftop. The shinigami-thing's voice sang a disjointed chant as the steel-sounds scraped at the ears.

"It's not a trick. It really _was_ Kumodo, his very own 'self'. I'm not so heartless as to deny the meeting of old friends. So I allowed him see, hear, feel _everything_ happening right now-. Like _this._"

Another shimmering in the expression, replaced by soft, agonized eyes. Kumodo immediately grabbed his own sword-.

"No! I wont…!"

-Just before the blade began to cut deeply into the flesh, the expression changed again. At the same time, the scimitar slid along the hand that grasped it - slicing off a fair bit of flesh - and charged. Muramasa's own blade met it head-on, holding it, pushing as he reached out once again to the inner world of the possessed shinigami –

But the shinigami broke away and stepped smartly sideways to half-circle Muramasa.

"Ah-ah-ah! You cannot reach him, my friend! You have something to say, just _whisper_ to me and I'll pass it on to him, word for word!"

The shinigami came in from the side and Muramasa twisted – his movement mirroring his opponent's and countering the assault. The shinigami grinned and slammed the blade sideways, pushing down on the zanpakuto spirit's blade.

"Or perhaps something more expressive for a nine-hundred-year-old reunion? A brush of hand? A kiss?"

Muramasa snapped his blade upwards, pushing up the scimitar along with it. Using it as a leverage, Muramasa slid back, reaching out with one hand.

But before his ability could capture it, the shinigami swung the scimitar downwards – releasing powerful energy that caused the whole building to collapse. Jumping from falling debris to debris, the two descended. Muramasa soundlessly alighted on the ground and the shinigami soon followed suit, carelessly slashing at the huge stonework that fell right above him. Amid the shower of stone–turned-pebbles, the shinigami spun the scimitar in one hand so that the blade faced downwards.

"As it is, might as well go all the way…"

"GETSUGA TENSHO!"

The shinigami snapped its head around but not before the crescent mass of pure energy hit it – throwing it across the ground to smash into another nearby building.

Muramasa kept his gaze to the direction the shinigami flew across, even when Ichigo stepped down right beside him. Without sparing a glance, Muramasa spoke:

"Have you recovered enough?"

Ichigo grimaced as he answered.

"Honestly? No. I can still taste my breakfast trying to climb up to my throat and I feel like turning my insides out to give them a thorough wash…"

Then Ichigo stopped, frowned, and looked at Muramasa.

"Actually… I feel a lot better **now**. Did you… do something?"

"I'm clearing that reiatsu out of you with my own. But I may not be able to concentrate on both you and that thing. Just block out its reiatsu and filter out only the most essential spiritual signature to aid you in combat."

A slightly immature part of Ichigo muttered inside: _Yessir, and while I'm at it, why don't I drag out my inner hollow and find a way to make 'peace' with him as well – because just doing what you said right now would be all _too _easy…_

However, the substitute shinigami took a deep breath and began to concentrate. Ichigo still had to fight back the bile that surged up when the thing emerged from the rubble and dust clouds – unscathed and its eyes now fixed on the new arrival.

"Fangs to pierce the heavens? Indeed. An impetuous audacity such as only a _child _could boast of."

The shinigami-thing then vanished. Ichigo knew that it had flash-stepped behind him because of another fit of nausea rather than anything else. But Muramasa was there already, circling behind Ichigo to parry the blow from the scimitar. The shinigami jumped away, smirking at the two.

"Surprisingly, my friend here seems to allow your presence. Ah, well. One more audience might actually prove more entertaining."

It held out its sword straight – pointing at Ichigo and Muramsa.

"So Kumodo…ready to give your **all **for this audience?"

Again, the brief transition in the face. The grinning countenance replaced by pure pain, sorrow, and even horror. The figure that was now Kumodo shuddered and bit his lips – drawing blood.

"No, I won't…can't… This isn't… Muramasa…!"

"What the…?"

Before Ichigo's astonished eyes, the face of the shinigami changed yet again – the desperate calling ending in a ringing laughter.

"Will take that as a yes, Kumodo! _BANKAI_."

The scimitar dissipated in ribbons of whirling smoke – which thickened as it whirled faster – rising and widening.

Ichigo felt the grey darkness draping over him.

Looking up, he found a gigantic maelstrom of grey clouds. Then he looked around – and realized that they were trapped inside a swirling mist – similar to what they'd witnessed in the lab but the scale and the spiritual energy emanating was incomparable.

The shinigami-thing was nowhere to be seen. Ichigo tried to capture its reiatsu and quickly realized that it was no use. The reiatsu was all over the cloud-substance that surrounded them. They might as well have been inside the very bowels of the thing. Ichigo gripped Zangetsu harder, shifting position. His back brushed against Muramasa's.

"Now would be a real good time to say that you know _all_ about your old friend's moves."

"I'm afraid that as far as I know, Kumodo and his wielder never achieved bankai 900 years ago."

"…Great. Speaking of your friend, what _was _that? Even the reiatsu was different for that brief moment…"

"That was Kumodo."

"But you said…!"

"I'm not sure myself. But whatever that thing is, it's giving back Kumodo just enough of his being to make him conscious."

"I thought the whole point was to keep the zanpakutos 'not' themselves so that they'd obey. Why risk him breaking out of his control?'

"To mock me, I suppose. To mock _him_."

The cloud-wall seemed to spin faster. Inside, Ichigo could see glimmering spots winking on and off, like the eyes of some phantom predators, circling their prey. The low rumbles that echoed inside only strengthened the imagery.

The sudden blast out of the misty wall wasn't exactly invisible – but they only consisted of glittering specks in fierce flight. Both jumped sideways just in time, but the gleaming whirlwind spun and came at Ichigo from the opposite side. Ichigo countered it with his own blow and the whirlwind immediately dispersed – but Ichigo felt a sharp pain graze his cheek, followed by a trickle of warm blood. _Hail_, Ichigo thought. _Only razor-sharp and bullet-fast. _The deflected hailstorm came around and hovered briefly – shards tinkling. _Sort of like fighting Senbonzakura and Sode no Shirayuki at the same time, eh?_ _Only with the added bonus of 'cloudy with a chance of thunderstorm'. _The murderous ice shards came again, about to unleash their fury upon their two victims –

"BANKAI!"

- when a huge burst of reiatsu completely disintegrated it – going even beyond to penetrate the wall of clouds. The cloud let it pass, remaining as thick and impenetrable as before. _Well,_ Ichigo thought, _Didn't think it'd be that easy…_ Trying to run through it probably wasn't a good idea. The low rumbles were now thudding in Ichigo's ears – the source being the blue and white lightening currents that flashed all over along with the hail shards that seemed to move along the flashes with purposeful malice.

And these were nothing compared to what was going on above. The huge vortex that made one suffocate just by looking at it was full of wrathful, burning light. As for the icy masses that lazily danced around the light – the smallest was at least as big as Ichigo's torso. A thought occurred to the teen.

"You know, the most effective way to kills us would be to strike all at once, hail and lightening. After all, we're trapped."

"Most correct."

"Is that thing playing with us?"

"It likes to give a sporting chance, it seems."

"One must take what little pleasures an opportunity has to offer."

Ichigo snapped his head to the direction of the voice. The shinigami-thing stepped out of the cloud–wall. Kumodo was nowhere to be seen.

"And was I not rewarded with a little show just now? A bankai? Not much to look at, but quite powerful. Impressive, from a mayfly of a shinigami like you."

A thin, upward-curving slash appeared along its mouth.

"I certainly wouldn't mind having your zanpakuto."

Before the thing's words ended, Ichigo was already running, Zangetsu poised to strike-. But the shinigami whipped its hand out – trails of misty cloud dragged at its fingertips and it draped the cloud around it like a cloak.

Zangetsu cut through an insubstantial smoke.

At the same time, a part of the whirling cloud above Ichigo stirred and the shinigami pushed its upper body out of it, cloud wisps gathering in its palms to coalesce into the form of Kumodo. Ichigo turned just in time to see the shinigami falling towards him -

- but the blade met Muramasa's own. The shinigami titled its head as it strained against the lean sword.

"Twice now, my whispering friend. What _is _this child shinigami that you protect him twice? I thought the only being that deserved your attention was…"

It stopped. For the first time, its brow creased in confusion. It broke away and stepped back, not so much to avoid the orange-haired teen lunging from the side but to observe at a more leisurely distance. The momentary bafflement changed into realization and gave way to a malevolent glee.

"Oh, oh, _that's_ what it is… I did wonder…"

It leaned forward, its curved mouth showing rows of white teeth that made the smile somehow obscene.

"So where did you drop your **real **wielder, whisperer?"

The sudden surge of his own anger surprised Ichigo.

"You…!"

But Ichigo did not have time to express his rage. The sudden flaring of Muramasa's reiatsu cut through the teen, nearly causing him to gasp.

Ichigo didn't even see Muramasa move.

The next moment, the shinigami-thing was thrown back, actually doing a somersault in the air as it landed on hands and knees – skidding along with Kumodo scraping against the ground. Before the shinigami-thing gained balance, it had to flip on its back to counter the blow that dropped from above. As it strained against Muramasa's sword, its grin became wider.

"Or did _he_ drop _you_?"

Even when it had to roll sideways to avoid the crushing blow, even when the attack took a bite out of its left shoulder and blood flew, the grin remained.

Its hand gestured and the hailstorm gathered around him. At the same time, lightening plummeted down. Seemingly heedless of it all, Muramasa struck at the hailstorm – reiatsu-fused blade scattering the icy barrier like dust. Simultaneously, the black aura of Zangetsu caught the descending lightening in its path, swallowing it. Ichigo stood back-to-back with Muramasa once more.

"Did you get it?"

"You're hoping too much."

Ichigo stole a glance at where Muramasa struck – only the wisp-clouds caressed the edge of the blade before drifting away. Ichigo let out a short 'Hmph' and was alarmed at the slight tremor in his voice. Ichigo held Zangetsu more firmly, not so much from apprehension as an attempt to control the prickling sensation that Muramasa's reiatsu was causing as it ran down his spine and his limbs. He'd felt this heavy reiatsu crushing down on him before - when he had first encountered the zanpakuto spirit. But perhaps because they were now connected, it was somehow… different. It was akin to being thrown into an ice-cold river. At first it took his breath away and the freezing pain and shock near paralyzed him. But it washed away that **thing's** reiatsu that had clung to him like filth. It felt… exhilarating.

Pillars of lightening struck with flurry of hails accompanying them – forcing the two figures apart. Ichigo had countered the assault when a part of the cloud–wall spat out the shinigami. Ichigo barely had time to block the scimitar's attack. As that particular reiatsu seemed to drain his strength, Ichigo tried to concentrate on Muramasa's reiatsu. Then, the thing's face flickered again…

… And that tortured expression, teeth grinding, the hand clawing at the other in an attempt to stop himself…

"_Was he a friend?"_

"_As close to such a thing as I ever had, I suppose."_

The pain was so apparent and too much. Ichigo called out unthinkingly.

"Kumodo, can you hear me!? Can't you hear Muramasa?!"

Surprised snapping of the head, eyes focusing on the teen for the first time. The arms shuddered and Ichigo felt the scimitar go limp when he pushed against it, and the constant roar of lightening and hail around them lessened just a little. Hoping, Ichigo changed the angle of Zangetsu, perhaps if he could just subdue him without -.

The sudden movement of the scimitar would have cut Ichigo's arm off if Muramasa hadn't grabbed the substitute shinigami and practically threw him sideways.

"Don't be foolish, Kurosaki Ichigo, it's playing with you, playing with _him_."

Ichigo opened his mouth, looked at the figure that grinned down at them, and ground his teeth.

The thing, obviously in full possession of the shinigami again, chuckled.

"Very considerate, child shinigami. Very noble and kind. I'm sure Kumodo appreciates it."

It hefted the scimitar and as it did so, the hailstorm gathered around once more – forming a barrier around it. The rumble of thunder and the intensity of the white-hot lightening in the surrounding wall increased.

Then the shinigami paused, and frowned for the second time. It stared at its sword-arm – which twitched and convulsed. Whatever was happening there seemed to crawl upwards to the shoulder and all the way to the face. The shinigami shook as if against invisible bonds and hung its head. When the head came up, Ichigo recognized the look he'd just witnessed before. The face was still contorted with obvious pain and effort, but there was now a ghost of strength. When the figure spoke, every word seemed to take nearly all of its willpower.

"It's… shameful to ask you…for this…. But…"

Ichigo couldn't see Muramasa's expression, for he stood in front of him. But there was no doubt that he was looking up at Kumodo, hearing every painstaking syllable.

"What's gone is… gone."

A hint of a wan smile and something else… determination? Trust? Ichigo couldn't tell.

"Make it so."

The head jerked back as if an invisible hand snatched at it from behind. Then it came forward, and there was no doubt as to who was in possession of that body now. The shinigami-thing looked at the scimitar in its hand with irritated amusement. Impressed yet disgusted at this zanpakuto that got out of its control, however briefly.

"Really, Kumodo, you overstep the boundary of my favor…"

The shinigami–thing flung out its free arm to send a wave of hail towards the oncoming zanpakuto spirit. Muramasa held up his sword directly in front but suddenly, lightening came from all directions – above, left, right. The zanpakuto spirit managed to avoid most of the attack while sending concentrated blast to the way of the hailstorm but it had already changed direction. Muramasa, without looking back, swung his sword backwards to force back most of the hailstorm but the shinigami-thing swung the scimitar in a complete circle – catching lightening from the nearby cloud-wall. The lightening cracked along the blade's edge and leapt towards the targeted prey. Muramasa had no time settle into a defensive position and took the blow in full – the force of it sending him plummeting down to the ground. Another array of lightning struck down the orange-haired teen that was coming from the opposite direction, practically driving him into the ground like a hammer. The shinigami materialized in front of the fallen zanpakuto spirit and brought down the scimitar. Muramasa barely had time to bring up his sword. The shinigami licked its lips as it put its other hand on the surface of the scimitar, pushing down harder.

"Never thought you could be so…_hotheaded_, whisperer. Perhaps it's a bad influence from your new _substitute_ wielder? But it seems he's out for the count…"

For the first time since facing this being, Muramasa smiled.

"Is he, now?"

The shinigami stopped straining and flicked a glance to where the teen had fallen – and out of a corner of its eye, it caught a burst of visible reiatsu - a fountain of black fire.

The shinigami jumped back a little and stared at the standing figure, draping dark and heavy reiatsu around him like a burning shroud.

At the hollow mask.

"GETSUGA-"

The shinigami-thing's eyes widened.

"What _are_ you…?"

"TENSHO!!!"

The shinigami-thing felt the stray reiatsu even before the strange, reverberating call was finished. The following blast howled and ripped at everything in its path, including the all-permeating reiatsu that dominated this cloud-prison. The shinigami moved out of the way just in time, the hair and clothing buffeting madly as the black crescent blew past him – hurtling uselessly to the smoky wall that'd just let it through -.

- Except Muramasa was somehow standing right in front of the oncoming blast. His sword met the blow, connecting directly with it for a moment. Then he hurled it to the side – completely changing its direction while adding his own power.

The shinigami barely had time to turn towards the assault.

As the explosive blast hit it full in the front, the shinigami managed to glance at the corner where it had just confronted the fallen zanpakuto spirit. Muramasa was still there – but the image shimmered and disappeared. _A trick_, _all along_. The realization hit it at the same time it hit the ground, Kumodo flying out of its grasp and sliding across. By the time the sword stopped, its form had shifted back to its sealed state.

The misty walls and the cloud canopy above began to dissipate – thinning and mixing into the atmosphere, letting pieces of blue sky pass through. The lightening gave a feeble fight before giving into the seeping sun. The hailstorm slowed in its passage to rain down to the ground – melting into ordinary water droplets that showered down gently on both figures that stood.

The shinigami barely managed to lift up its head. It pushed itself forward on its elbows, and reached out with one hand, fingers moving like the legs of a dying spider, a couple of them managing to brush the hilt of the sword that had escaped it.

"Collide, Kumo…"

A foot came crushing down on the fingers. Then a long-nailed hand grasped the shinigami's head, lifting it up.

"You will _NOT _utter his name again."

The blue-green gaze burned coldly as Muramasa brought the shinigami's face close to him.

"I may not be able to reach him, but I can reach _you_."

The shinigami struggled a little as the grip encircling its head tightened. Then it jerked its head back, its limbs, the whole body going stiff – it stayed like that for a while, its feet only barely brushing the ground - then a muffled sound trickled out of it.

"No… matter. We'll have… plenty of chances to see each other… again."

The body went limp in Muramasa's hand. Muramasa held it for a while, then let go. The body of the shinigami crumpled down in a heap. Then specks of nigh-invisible light began to gather and take form. Muramasa stepped back a little.

Ichigo blinked as the last bit of hollow mask fell away to dissolve before it touched the ground. In front of Muramasa stood a hazy form of a giant. Brown-skinned, grey mane hanging down to his ankles. The giant opened his eyes to reveal the grey-tinted, transparent pools. The giant smiled as he looked at the figure before him.

"Ah, you demon."

The way the giant said the word belied the literal meaning of it. Coming from that mouth, in that tone, no-one could doubt that the word conveyed affection, respect, and… concern.

The giant reached out with his enormous hand and attempted to brush off the water droplets that had settled on Muramasa's hair. The transparent hand passed right through – not even disturbing a single drop that hung precariously from the end of a lock. The giant's smile turned a little rueful. Then he slightly turned to look at Ichigo. Ichigo startled, opened his mouth, and closed it. Looking into the soft grey eyes, Ichigo somehow felt that he'd have liked to know this giant, so that they would have things to say, something common…

Ichigo looked at Muramasa. The zanpakuto spirit remained unmoving, wordless, like a statue.

The giant bent his great head, his one arm extending outwards and curving in with a grace that seemed almost incongruous to his build. At the end of the swooping bow, the giant's form began to scatter into numerous firefly lights – until he was completely gone and only the sword remained. And soon, even that was no more, powdered light carried away into the wind.

Only then, did Muramasa speak.

"I was able to reach it for a brief moment, but I'm afraid that the thing got away. Not that I hoped for much. I could only pry Kumodo out of its control."

Muramasa looked down at the ground where the last trail of after-light lingered.

"For what it was worth."

Ichigo followed Muramasa's gaze and a thought struck him.

"But…wouldn't that thing just resurrect…"

"No, it gave Kumodo too much of himself back and I was able to disrupt the thing's bond enough to free him. Once a zanpakuto breaks free of its bond, it cannot get to him. Kumodo is truly gone now."

Relief gave way to something else and Ichigo looked away from the fading near-light back to Muramasa - eyes still downcast, water droplets glistening on his hair. Ichigo found himself reaching up, mimicking Kumodo's earlier gesture.

Just as Ichigo stopped a hair's breadth away, Muramasa suddenly lifted his head and the moistened locks slightly brushed against the teen's fingertips, the glittering drops breaking at the contact. Ichigo nearly flinched, like a child caught doing something he shouldn't do.

But the zanpakuto spirit was focused on something beyond the teen.

"Watch out."

Ichigo blinked at the soft-spoken warning. Then a familiar sensation scratched at his spine. Ichigo turned and saw the fallen shinigami thrashing. It was obvious that none of the shinigami's own muscles were involved in the process as black, oil-like substance began to ooze out of the shinigami. Instead of dripping down to the ground, the substance flowed upwards. The liquid-smoke began to take certain shapes and Ichigo already knew what they were.

* * *

The man almost stood up as the figure, sitting cross-legged on a raised mound as if in meditation – suddenly reeled. Then the figure began to sway sideways – seemingly from the shock of an invisible blow. The man called out, the voice like granite sounding even more hoarse than usual.

"Master…?"

The figure waved away his question. It dawned on the man that the movement was quite intentional – the figure was now rocking sideways and back and forth to the rhythm that only it could hear. The figure began to chuckle, the sound reverberating eerily inside the cavern, in sync with the movement. Then the figure gave up balance completely and fell back…

… straight into a pair of waiting arms.

The figure opened its eyes and looked up at the inverted view of a round, plump face. Slightly idiotic-looking but radiating good-naturedness.

A good façade.

However, that good-natured face was now tinted with disapproval as it looked down at the figure lying in his arms. The figure waved its delicate hand – lily-white or corpse-pale, depending on one's view.

"Welcome back."

"I should say the same to you."

The figure donned a chagrined expression along with an ingratiating smile – which actually deepened the disapproval on the face of the shinigami holding the figure. The emotion did not sit well on his round face and actually looked comical. The shinigami was seemingly unaware or uncaring of this fact, as his next words bordered on reproach.

"Was that entirely necessary?"

The figure tapped its cheek with a slender finger - its expression now that of exaggerated introspection.

"Entirely? Hmm… no, probably not. _Somewhat_, perhaps."

There was a twitch of irritation in the plump face and this time, the figure that lay in his arms did laugh. The shinigami – or rather, the zanpakuto dominating the body of the shinigami – spoke solemnly.

"Through this… _somewhat _necessary intervention… I dearly hope we gained _something. _So? I quite lost the connection since **someone **decided to barge in and cut me off from my own craft."

The man, watching the two from a little distance, winced. Sasagani (細蟹 – spider or spider silk in Japanese. 'Thin' and 'crab' separately) was one of the very first and oldest. Even then, it turned his stomach hollow whenever he saw how much liberty the zanpakuto took in dealings with their master-wielder. However, the figure in Sasagani's arms merely narrowed its eyes, the mirth still evident, although now tinged with a kind of shrewdness.

"The craft that _someone_ saw through."

"I know, that was…unexpected."

"He is someone who knows you by your old nickname, Sasagani. Although, I always felt that he was rather worthy of the same title himself."

Something other than disapproval fleeted over the zanpakuto's features. The man with the granite voice did not know what to make of it but it was gone the next moment. When Sasagani spoke, the voice betrayed no emotion and the man felt both jealous and contemptuous of such control.

"Well, at least we found out who our 'lost one' was."

The figure frowned.

"No, 'I' found out, and quite accidentally, may I point out."

"Through 'my' ability, 'my' operation that 'I' set up – which, I assume, got ruined rather spectacularly. A shame, really, I put days of work into it. I still assert that Kumodo would have been recovered more…quietly and the information obtained in a more prudent manner if you held your whims at bay. What exactly happened?"

"I bet you can guess. He wasn't so keen on letting this go quietly. He actually did manage to reach me quite briefly. Actually attempted to _**catch **_me."

Through the incredulousness, one could sense the excitement in the voice. The flat voice of the zanpakuto that followed was in stark contrast.

"So, failing that, he just pried Kumodo off of you and sent you with a clout to your ear."

Dangerous, _that._ The man cringed inwardly. There were lines that their master would not tolerate - even from the oldest of zanpakutos. The figure's eyes narrowed a bit further, the smile now holding an edge as the air changed subtly.

"Sasagani, why do I _let _you keep your mind?"

The zanpakuto's tone didn't falter as he answered.

"Because it amuses you. Because the presence of my mind happens to scratch that particular spot where your sense of humor lies, skewed as it is."

A moment, and then laughter – dissolving the edge and the cold. The figure sat up.

"I would have lost old Kumodo anyway. Some are just too **stubborn.** His mind would have either gathered itself eventually to break free of the bond and disintegrate, or he'd have broken down completely because I had to remove too much of him to keep him compliant."

The figure looked back over its shoulder at its zanpakuto.

"And it was a first real exercise I had in a long time… Not even. A warm-up of a warm-up, as it were. A trial run."

"And the result?"

The figure looked down at its pale hands.

"Disappointing. I admit, it _**irks.**_ This… just the 'memory' of my power. I still need some more…time and resources. And, well, once I 'remembered' him… I did want to get his attention. Now that I've got it, I have to think about what we can offer him."

"What would a demon want?"

"Oh, everyone wants _something_."

The figure turned back, the lithe fingers pulling at its lower lip in a childish manner.

"Sasagani, to counter your earlier accusations, there's one thing we would not have learned if I had not 'barged in'."

The zanpakuto raised his unfortunate shinigami's eyebrows.

"In your own time."

The figure twitched one eye at the sarcasm, but only in amusement.

"Tell me, what kind of being smells of sun-ripened dandelions and at the same time, of bones burnt to ashes?"

Sasagani frowned and the man mirrored his expression.

"If that's a riddle, it's a rather unfair one."

The figure chuckled and turned around.

"And, it wasn't **entirely** without gain."

The figure reached out with its hand to grab at the empty air – which soon stirred with faint reiatsu. It gathered inside the palm of the figure to take the form of liquid light – then the hand no longer clutched the air but a very solid sword.

"Excavated… from Kumodo at the last minute. The zanpakuto of the shinigami that he inhabited. It's still a… 'baby'. Never even been called by its…hah, 'her' name until now, poor thing. So, who wants her?"

Sasagani shrugged and the figure turned again, holding out the lean blade towards the man who was watching the whole exchange.

"Ryu-Seki-maru (流 石 丸 – 'Flowing rock' 'round'), would you like her?"

Like giving a treat to dogs, the man – the zanpkuto inside that body – thought. And he knew that if he really was a dog, his tail would be wagging furiously. Obviously not caring for an answer, the figure tossed the sword to him and he caught it in both hands.

"I leave it to your judgment whether to absorb her or to keep her for me to use later on. Her name is Ten no KinKou-Seki (天 の 金剛石 – Heaven's Diamond), such a pretentious name, that."

The man held the given zanpakuto – which immediately 'imploded' into a small sphere of light as soon as he laid it on his palms. As always, there was a vague sense of guilt but at the same time, of overwhelming greed and anticipation as he bent over so that his mouth engulfed the light. An addiction, he thought as the light burned the lips, the throat, and a part of his soul. Then ecstasy enveloped him as the young zanpakuto wailed when his soul swallowed it, and the numerous others echoed inside, welcoming or grieving the arrival of a new voice as it joined the chorus within.

* * *

"Hollows."

Ichigo spat as he faced the black, swaying figures seeping out of the fallen shinigami, towering over the two. Muramasa calmly looked at the scene and commented:

"It seems that after absorbing all the reiryoku, it used the shinigami's body as a dumping ground for the needless hollows. Better than what I had to resort to before, I admit."

_Right back to your cynical self,_ Ichigo thought before lifting Zangetsu, facing a horde of Gillians deprived of all their devoured souls and were now, undoubtedly, very, very hungry. Ichigo pulled Zangetsu back-.

"Getsuga – "

"Extend! Hozukimaru!"

The Gillian that was just about to descend upon the two split like a cloth ran through with a knife – which wasn't far from the fact. From the ripped hollow burst out a shinigami. Black, unruly garment flapping like a disheveled feather of a crow - which was in sharp contrast from the perfectly smooth head that brilliantly reflected off sunlight.

"Oy, what are you doing here, Ichigo? And how the hell did these hollows get into the middle of Seireitei-."

Madarame Ikkaku stopped and did a double take, the hollows momentarily forgotten. Ichigo quickly stood in front of the zanpakuto spirit. Not that it did any good. Ikkaku stood frozen for a moment before pointing with Hozukimaru - right over Ichigo's head.

"YOU?!"

* * *

*Kumodo was a totally random zanpakuto I came up with just for the purpose of explanation in chapters 1 and 2. I never thought he'd play a further role until I had finished writing chapter 4. Poor Kumodo, not only is he born with a butchered name, he got killed twice.

*Coming up with zanpakuto's names 'will' drive me crazy sooner or later.


	7. Chapter7 Let Me Introduce Myself Again

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. ****Bleach and all its characters are the property of Kubo Tite.**

**Goodness, it's been a while since the last chapter… The Zanpakuto Arc seems so long ago, I wonder if anyone would be reading this anymore at this point … **

**Note 1: The new OC zanpakuto Tsuki-Oumono (mentioned at the end) belongs to general zargon – who very kindly allowed me to use one of her OC zanpakutos! Thank you again, general zargon! **

**Note 2: There's one scene – that I debated on whether to put it in or not because I thought it may be quite OOC for Muramasa to do something like that (Even though I'm not sure how much I've been writing him 'in character' so far). But it's something I really wanted to put in so… **

**It's kind of funny to reply to reviews almost after two months but I really wanted to express my gratitude….**

**Zangetsu50 **– Thank you always for your comments! All my chapters seem to turn out too long...

**Seriyuu **– It's always great to see the words 'update again soon!' Well, this chapter is about the rest of Seireitei dealing with Muramasa – or maybe the other way around

**animelover1993 **– Thank you for the lovely review…^^ You scared me when you mentioned "training session between Ichigo and Muramasa because that was one of the very first scenes I thought of when I came up with this idea. O.o I hope to have fun writing it later on…

**general zargon** – Thank you so much again for your OC zanpakutos! I'm sorry that he's only just mentioned at the end in this chapter – planning more scenes involving him later on!

**Scribblechan** – Thank you! Glad you found the story interesting ^^.

**symbion** – Thank you for reading and reviewing!

**dementedxc00kiie** – Thank you! I really want to update soon but I take too long writing…

**As always, big thanks to everyone who reads this work!**

* * *

A delicate distance

Close enough to strike

Far enough to not hurt.

* * *

Chapter 7

Let Me Introduce Myself - Again.

* * *

"Again, try to concentrate."

"I am."

"Then try harder."

The orange-haired teen groaned in exasperation as he adjusted his stance and focused on the intricate threads of reiatsu swirling around him. Whenever the teen tried countering them with his reiatsu, the elusive strands swayed back, changing direction. The teen managed to shrug off those tendrils just before they wrapped themselves around his throat, and barely countered the next assault to his right shoulder. Then he had to re-focus because he lost track of them altogether. Irritated, the teen shook his head.

"What the hell is this supposed to DO, anyway? I already broke this technique once!"

"It may not always be as easy as simply scattering the reflection like last time. After all, now _I_ know that you know. That's half of your advantage already lost, as I'll never try the same technique again with you."

"It doesn't matter anyway because it's not like we'd be fighting each other anytime soon. So isn't the point kind of moot?"

The complete lack of expression from the figure before him made the teen wonder if he'd said something… ignorant. The teen may have imagined the zanpakuto spirit's reply as it was a ghost of a whisper: "You think so, do you?"

Before the teen could ask, the zanpakuto spirit spoke in a more definite voice.

"In any case, this isn't the same technique. It's a… more subtle version of it."

It was different. Certainly much more complex than the snake-arms that the teen had to contend with before, and vastly more annoying. The teen muttered:

"You know, during all my 'training', I was nearly eaten up by a hollow, nearly got cut by the old man himself, and was beaten up within an inch of my life. Somehow, _this_ is more frustrating than all of those put together."

"Not all training involves blood and sweat - doesn't mean they're any less important. To make maximum use of me, you'd do well to familiarize yourself in sensing and manipulating various reiatsu. Not only that, this would aid you in any battle - the last one being an example. It's something that'd actually be useful even when I'm gone."

Something vaguely resembling anger flickered inside the teen and he snapped:

"Do you have to be like that?"

"Like…?"

"Like you're going to be gone tomorrow and will have nothing to do with me ever again."

Silence reigned.

The teen nearly shifted his weight as he looked at the absolutely still figure before him. Then the zanpakuto spirit suddenly flicked his index finger. Immediately, the teen's left arm shot up, twisting back. Whatever that held the arm stopped just before it became painful.

"There, you lost focus and I got you. Again."

Kurosaki Ichigo bit his lip and growled as the invisible bindings let him go. Yet he concentrated as Muramasa's reiatsu maneuvered around him again.

* * *

"Okay, so _one _division tolerates his presence. But that division isn't exactly representative of the whole Seireitei."

'And thank goodness it isn't.' Everyone in the room heard the unspoken sentence. Ichigo snuck a glance towards the zanpakuto spirit sitting beside him but the figure remained immobile, one arm on the table, his head lightly propped on the back of his hand - calm and serenity personified.

The hollows from the previously possessed (and now, unfortunately, thoroughly lifeless) shinigami were quickly subdued by the 11th division. Such was their fervor that later on, Ichigo was suspicious that they were actually _glad_ of this excuse for some action.

At that time, however, Ichigo couldn't concern himself with such matters…..

* * *

... Not with Ikkaku standing a sword's length away from Muramasa. Ichigo desperately wished for reinforcements but there was no sign of Renji, Rukia, or Captain Ukitake. Ichigo had no way of knowing that the three had their hands full restraining Captain Kurotsuchi who, after the initial stupor, fell into an unstoppable rage and tried to release Ashisogi Jizo into full bankai – under the logic that if he poisoned the whole of Seireitei, he'd certainly get the possessed shinigami as well. Captain Ukitake had barely managed to knock Captain Kurotsuchi unconscious just before he actually carried out his plan.

Not knowing any of this, Ichigo was desperately racking his brains for an explanation as he was the sole barrier between the apparently enraged shinigami - his eyes gleaming even more than his shining forehead – and the zanpakuto spirit _who didn't seem to take barest interest in the proceedings at all_.

What transpired after went roughly like this:

Something like a pink and black cannonball hurtled past Ikkaku and Ichigo. Half-thinking that this must be some new attack by Ikkaku, Ichigo frantically turned around to find a little girl clinging to the zanpakuto spirit - who had instinctively caught her in one hand. A mass of pink hair and rosy cheeks looked up - with eyes so huge and enthusiastic that they seemed capable of swallowing up anything they looked upon. Yachiru nearly screeched with glee.

"You're out! You're OUT! And you're with Icchi! Now you can BOTH fight Ken-chan!"

Before Ichigo could recover, Ikkaku stepped forward. Ichigo quickly tried to intervene but Ikkaku was already looking up at Muramasa, his own zanpakuto casually thrown over his shoulder. Then, all of a sudden, Ikkaku grabbed Muramasa's one free hand and shook it energetically.

"Hah! I always wanted to thank you for giving me a chance to fight my own zanpakuto! One does not get to do that very often!"

Ichigo was aware that he probably looked moronic with his jaw hanging open, but he couldn't help it as he stared incredulously at Ikkaku pumping Muramasa's hand – although the latter looked as if he'd have found an all-out attack preferable to this.

This was the scene that greeted the rest of the 11th division as they arrived….

* * *

… And one needed to know this about the 11th division: If the vice-captain was alright with something, then it went without saying that the captain was alright with it. If the captain was alright with it, then Madarame Ikkaku was alright with it. And if Ikkaku was alright with it, Ayasegawa Yumichika was alright with it. Therefore, it was **ALRIGHT**.

The problem was, now that the cat was officially out of the bag, there were other divisions to consider…

"I don't need to tell you, most aren't exactly happy that this bastar-"

Tittering momentarily at the impact of Rukia and Ichigo's razor glares, Renji grudgingly replaced his intended expletive with a milder option.

"– that…. 'he', is back. And they're even less happy knowing that the captains have been keeping this whole thing a secret, even going so far as to 'shelter' him. You have no idea what an earful I just received from vice-captain Iba for keeping my mouth shut about this. Hell, I was nearly throttled! And vice-captain Rangiku, don't even _talk_ to me about vice-captain Rangiku."

'Oh, _please _talk to me about vice-captain Rangiku', would've been more fitting to the tone, thought Ichigo a shade sourly. Ichigo's bitterness probably wasn't solely responsible for Renji's comments sounding as if they were tinted with a certain kind of glee.

However, aside from the personal touches that Renji had liberally employed in his assessment, the shinigami's summary of the situation was more or less correct. Captain Ukitake was now lying down because his sickness apparently relapsed due to the stress of dealing with Mayuri rampant and facing his concerned and enraged seated officers afterwards. As a result, they had turned to Rukia for explanation (likely she was here to escape them as well). Any verbal or physical torture by Rangiku to Renji was probably **nothing **compared to what Captain Hitsugaya was being subjected to.

Only two captains were seemingly unaffected by all this: Captain Soifon ignored everyone and went around with a cold air that conveyed the statement 'I told you so'. And Captain Kuchiki Byakuya was… Captain Kuchiki Byakuya.

"The only reason nobody's barging in to get a piece of him is thanks to us dragging him here so that he's out of everybody's sight. Considering what he'd done, I've half a mind to toss him to them -."

At this point, Muramasa spoke for the first time since they came into the room.

"Would that help?

All three simultaneously turned their heads towards the zanpakuto spirit, who went on in a perfectly peaceful tone.

"Perhaps we can have everyone lined up and each can have a 'go' at me, if it helps. After all, it's not like I'll be 'killed' as long my 'wielder' is fine. So I can still be around to be of use."

Rukia put her hand to her forehead and Ichigo shook his head.

"Be serious."

"But I am. Now that I think of it, lining up might take entirely too long. Perhaps ten of them can go all at once? The captains still need me to explain a few things and we need to save time."

Renji gestured towards the zanpakuto spirit, while giving his two friends a look that clearly conveyed the words 'See? He's not even taking it seriously!'. Ichigo spoke again.

"You're not helping, you know."

Muramasa merely shrugged and Renji continued.

"Okay, as tempting as that idea is, fat chance any of the captains will allow it. But hell, all the same, everyone's on the edge – and by 'everyone' I mean the zanpakutos as well. What's getting to them is the fact that he's free to roam around like this - when we can barely trust him."

"Look, Renji,, I'm his wielder! I'm keeping watch over him."

"Except you're 'watching over him' in a different way. You know, like a mother he.…"

Retaining some sense, Renji stopped short even before he saw Ichigo's expression. However, he wasn't through yet.

"And he _did_ run after that possessed shinigami and no-one could hold him back."

"I caught up with him!"

"Only after a while! Who knows what went on between him and that thing during that time?"

"Well then, what do you suggest, Renji? All you've been doing is just venting…"

Muramasa interjected again.

"If it's necessary, I 'could' go back to the sealed cell like before. Of course, all I can do from there is merely talking, so you have to consider that my usage level would somewhat decrease…."

"You're NOT helping!"

Both Ichigo and Rukia shouted at the same time, whipping their heads towards the zanpakuto spirit who carried on in that infuriatingly calm voice.

"You asked for a suggestion so…"

Rukia repeated the hand-to-forehead gesture and Ichigo sighed. Renji put his hands on his waist and growled but even he was surprised as Muramasa dipped his head low and murmured.

"Now that I think about it, you may have been being too 'familiar' with me… and that could be a problem for you all."

"What? What are you talking about?"

Muramasa lifted head and looked at Ichigo.

"Even though the captains approve of you, I'd think a good portion of Seireitei would look upon a substitute shinigami with… ambivalence, at best. So you appearing to give me any 'support' probably wouldn't help your already dubious position."

Ichigo was about the say something but Muramasa, smiling that wry smile of his, didn't give him any opening.

"I know I'm the one who accepted your offer. But it wouldn't look very appropriate if you keep on acting like anything other than a 'guard' to keep me properly 'leashed'. On that note, I do apologize for my rash behavior that vice-captain Abarai has brought up. I admit I forgot myself when I chased that 'thing.' You must have been rattled."

"I wasn't…!"

"And then there's you, Kuchiki Rukia."

As Muramasa abruptly turned towards Rukia, Ichigo stumbled over the objection he was about to make and Rukia blinked her eyes.

"Me? What do you…"

"You are a Kuchiki. You're actually in a worse position because of it. I know you feel responsible because you're the one who brought Kurosaki Ichigo to me and that's why you keep close. But you did notice that the captains, aside from the times they need information, are trying to have as little association with me as possible? Even then… well, we all heard how they're under siege from their subordinates. Perhaps it's wiser for you to keep distance from now on. Any damage to your reputation might spread to Kuchiki Byakuya, and to the Kuchiki clan as a whole, and I know how important that is to the Kuchiki clan."

Rukia blinked a little more, and then her face hardened.

"You think we should be worried about _tainting our_ _reputation by 'associating with you'_?"

Rukia's question was deceptively calm but it was as hard as a marble. Seemingly unaware of this, Muramasa tilted his head.

"Shouldn't you be?"

Rukia narrowed her eyes. Ichigo recognized the look. It was a look she gave just before delivering a blow that'd knock him out of whatever pool of idiocy he happened to be drowning in. Rukia folded her arms and declared in her best 'Kuchiki' voice.

"Muramasa. I take that as an insult. Not just to me, but to the whole of Gotei 13."

Even Ichigo was surprised (and Renji stunned) as Rukia stepped up, took hold of Muramasa by one arm, and lifted him off the chair. Then Rukia proceeded to drag the zanpakuto spirit out of the room. Renji, finding his voice, sputtered:

"Rukia? What do you think you're doing?"

Rukia didn't even spare a glance.

"This is just_… silly_. We're going to Captain Ukitake and ask him to help us put an end to this."

"Wasn't Captain Ukitake bedridden due to stress…"

"By now, I can recognize when he is _really_ bedridden or merely _wishes_' he's bedridden. Muramasa is right about one thing: we have no time to waste. Not when an apparent threat is looming over Soul Society and we need all the resource we can possibly get. If anyone has a problem with it, they'll just have to deal with it."

"What are you going to do, Rukia? Gather everyone up and make a speech?"

"If necessary, yes."

Renji, frustrated, furiously scratched his head.

"What about Sode no Shirayuki? Is she fine with you _siding_ with _him_?"

Rukia's suddenly whipped around to face Renji. Her tone changed from a marble to a sword's edge as she carefully rested her hand on her zanpakuto .

"It's not a question of 'siding' with anyone. As for Sode no Shirayuki, true, she was wary at first. She's still wary. However, she knows what the priorities are and understand that we need Muramasa's help. You know what she went through last time but even now, she's saying she's with me and Ichigo all the way. I expect no less from everyone. No-one worthy to be in Gotei 13 would let a _petty malice _get in their way."

Renji cringed at the last sentence.

"It's not 'petty malice!' It's a precaution! It's true that this bastard is dangerous…"

"Well, that's a risk we'll have to take. As Gotei 13, it is our duty to be fully capable of such danger. After all, we survived the last incident and if anything, we should have learned from it."

"Rukia, that is…"

"Renji, I'd also like to say something."

Renji pulled his head back as Ichigo suddenly stood very close to him and spoke in a deadpan manner.

"_I'm_ his wielder now. So if you or anyone else has issues with him, then they'd better confront _me first._"

Leaving Renji staring, Ichigo turned around and took hold of Muramasa's other arm.

"Worry about our reputation? Ha, my friends and I once turned the whole Seireitei upside down. I should tell you about it …"

"Renji, you're free to stay here and _sulk_ all you want."

With that, the two led Muramasa away as Renji stood still with his mouth open.

Just before being led fully out of the room, Muramasa looked over his shoulder at the red-haired shinigami. His mouth parted slightly and Renji tensed – getting ready to counter whatever verbal sting the zanpakuto spirit might throw at him.

A red tongue slipped out from the parted mouth in a _very_ deliberate movement - the zanpakuto spirit's expression remaining impassive the whole time. Then Muramasa turned and allowed himself to be led out to the hallway, out of Renji's line of sight.

Because it was totally unexpected, it took Renji a while to register that he had just been mocked in the most traditional and possibly the most childish manner in the history of all insults.

About three minutes later, should anyone happened to be passing through that particular hallway (No one was, thankfully), they'd have been knocked down by a chaotic blur of red and black that screamed as it hurtled down the hall.

"RUKIA! ICHIGO! You're both being FOOLED! Can't you see that he's **EVIL**? EVIL, I tell you! EEEEEEEVIL!"

* * *

Well, it's better than we expected, Ichigo thought as he looked over the surroundings. Sure, the hostility is almost _tangible_, but no one tried to kill him outright.

Yet.

Rukia had assured him that it was under control - the captains had taken care of it. Actually, what the captains did was what any other officers of any organization would do under such circumstances. They quite literally passed the matter up: 'Well, I'm sorry for keeping this under wraps. But Captain-Commander had already decided. You're perfectly entitled to make objections. No? You don't feel comfortable going up to him in person? Why, I'll help you fill out the proper complaint form.'

So it was that everyone (grudgingly) settled (for now) for a formal apology and a vow that Muramasa will abide by any of the conditions attached to him by Seiretei – the presentation doubling as the first real (re)introduction of the zanpakuto spirit to the rest of Gotei 13.

Ichigo looked around once more at the group of shinigami – standing in half a circle on the Sokyoku Hill . As most of the captains and the vice-captains (Except for the 11th division where 3rd and 5th seat officers replaced their absent superiors as usual) were present, the view was quite imposing. Apparently many were intent on making most of this as they held their zanpakutos in full display as well as keeping their reiatsu carefully honed, ready to be unleashed into full battle mode at the barest hint of provocation.

According to Rukia, these were all the members that Muramasa had 'summoned' when he made his rather memorable first appearance, and the same place. While the irony might be fitting, Ichigo wasn't sure if this was the best way as all seemed to remember that moment _very vividly._

Captain Ukitake cleared his throat and started.

"Well, as we're all here, if everyone would…"

He was cut off as Muramasa suddenly strode past Ichigo and Rukia without warning - right towards the group. The zanpakuto spirit seemed completely poised (with both hands tucked inside his robe as usual – Ichigo and Rukia noticed worriedly), letting all the glares and hostile reiatsu pass straight through him.

At last he stopped at about midway between Ichigo's group and the group of shinigami. Rukia and Captain Ukitake exchanged nervous looks across the distance and Ichigo was sure that the thought running through their minds must be the same as his: _Within a very convenient reach of an attack. Almost like he's…taunting._

Many shinigami were already scowling and Renji stepped forward.

"How arrogant are you…"

Then the zanpakuto spirit slowly went down on one knee – to the dusty ground with his head bent low. As the shinigami blinked in unison, Muramasa spoke.

"I regret that I am unable to address everyone in Soul Society. Yet as the circumstance demands, please permit me to address all shinigami present here as representing the whole of Soul Society."

Well, that isn't a bad start…. thought Ichigo but Muramasa's next words made him choke.

"I shall not apologize."

Rukia and Captain Ukitake exchanged _horrified _looks and the hostile reiatsu became downright _murderous_. Renji was nearly snarling when Muramasa spoke again.

"Because I am not worthy."

Confusion dissipated the dangerous edge off the reiatsu and Muramasa continued.

"My past sins are too great for a mere apology. The deeds committed were inexcusable and the damage irreparable. Everyone in Soul Society has every reason and right to annihilate me right here. And should anyone choose to do so, I shall gladly receive the punishment."

As if to drive the point home, the zanpakuto spirit lowered his head even more so that his hair almost brushed the ground and that his neck was exposed.

"I have no right to ask anyone to believe me when I say that I'm trying to atone for my crimes. I do not ask for forgiveness or trust. I merely ask you to permit my presence for the time being, if only for the sake of the Captain-Commander and rest of the captains, who decided to summon me in the hopes that I'd be of use in the current crisis."

Ichigo and Rukia looked at each other as the tension noticeably diffused. It was too much to hope that the shinigami were buying everything the zanpakuto spirit was saying, but the obviously submissive gesture was having its effects.

"I also implore you to not hold anything against the captains, who risked a great deal to bring me here. I also extend this wish towards substitute shinigami Kurosaki Ichigo, Kuchiki Rukia, and vice-captain Abarai Renji, who willingly undertook the burden of watching over me despite any misunderstandings or accusations this might bring unto them, all for the good of Soul Society."

The last part must have made the most favorable impression, as the reiatsu significantly toned down and some even showed slight embarrassment. Renji also seemed somewhat placated but was apparently determined not to give in so easily.

"Aren't you forgetting to address certain people?"

To that, Muramasa gave a soft reply.

"How can I? They were the greatest casualties of my deeds. Everything I've said were also towards all the zanpakutos in Seireitei. To those I have manipulated against their will, dishonoring the sacred bond between them and their wielders, forcing my will upon them to go against their noble nature."

After a pause, Muramasa lifted his head and slowly stood up. When Ichigo thought that he had finished, Muramasa's voice rang out once more.

"But this I only extend to those who _deserve_ it."

There was a bout of confused blinks. Renji took it upon himself to voice everyone's question.

"What the hell does **that** supposed to mean?"

"It is true that I did separate the zanpakutos from their wielders. However, as for putting them under my control… shall I say, there were differences in the degrees of 'manipulation' that I had to employ for each?"

"What?"

"If one unleashes temperamental or even _rabid_ dogs, then that one is undoubtedly responsible for all the harms caused by such action. But one hardly needs to defer to the _dogs _themselves, now does he? Especially if the said dogs were ready to rip their masters' throats at any given chance. I'm sure that the ones I'm talking about know it themselves."

Ichigo nearly winced as the reiatsu level hit an all-time-high. Renji, though, was the first to show a visible reaction.

"Why you…."

Suddenly, Muramasa turned to face Renji and lowered his head.

"I especially wanted to express my regret towards you, vice-captain Abarai Renji, and to Zabimaru."

Taken by surprise, Renji resorted to the broadest of all responses.

"What?"

"What I've used on Zabimaru was nothing short of brainwashing. Zabimaru's loyalty towards you was so great that it'd have been impossible for me to turn them against you otherwise. Not even Ryujin Jakka or Senbonzakura had put up such resistance as Zabimaru had done."

Renji blinked.

"They… did?"

"Of course, does not their memory loss afterwards speak for itself? That was how much force I had to exert upon them. As it is, I am doubly ashamed that I've dishonored such a strong and honorable bond."

It was glaringly obvious that Renji's facial muscles were fighting a losing battle against the oncoming grin born of sheer pride. When he spoke, most of the previous edge in his voice had been melted away.

"Well… I mean, yes, they did return to normal pretty soon. As you said, the bond between us is very powerful so it's not like your… manipulation can do any lasting harm anyway… Come to that, I did learn a thing or two during that encounter…"

It was just as well that Renji couldn't see everyone's expression. After looking at his red-haired friend (chuckling now, no less!) in disbelief, Ichigo surveyed the group again. He fancied he could discern their (and their zanpakutos') thoughts: to display any offense at this point would only draw suspicion that 'they' might be the ones that Muramasa was talking about. While Renji and Zabimaru had been (strategically) praised, there was no telling what the zanpakuto spirit's next verbal counter might be. The best course of action was to stay unruffled to show that the accusation had _nothing_ whatsoever to do with them. Muramsa turned again towards the group.

"If everyone would excuse me, I believe the captains wanted me to enlighten them on a few more matters regarding the current situation. Isn't that right, Captain Jushiro Ukitake?"

Addressed so suddenly, Captain Ukitake was momentarily taken aback but he soon regained his composure and gave assent, taking leave of the group. The zanpakuto spirit gave a parting bow and turned, leaving behind a gawking group (and one very mollified – even happy shinigami) of Seireitei's best.

As Muramasa joined Rukia and Ichigo, both of them couldn't help pointing at him and stutter.

"You… you're… you're really…"

Muramasa gave them a sidelong glance and the two gave up trying to find an appropriate comment.

* * *

The head servant didn't know what to make of this one. The guest's attire bespoke of, if not quite on par with the highest noble families, a lineage belonging to one of the lesser nobles. Yet what noble would just 'drop in' and request to be taken to the head of the house? Yet the speech was eloquent and the guest's mannerism, immaculate.

Therefore, the presence of three swords hanging from the figure's sash was just baffling.

As if sensing the servant's discomfort, the figure smiled.

"I apologize for the sudden visit. However, I would truly appreciate it if you could let the master of the house know that he has a guest. Tell him the guest bears a message from a Kuzumori."

The servant blinked at the unfamiliar name but the visitor's confident air was intimidating. He murmured for the visitor to excuse him for a moment and turned to alert his master.

Just before he stepped into the house, the servant caught the whispery end of what sounded like a conversation.

"…. sometimes, direct approach is best, Tsuki-Oumono."

The servant turned his head only to face the visitor's smile. Somehow unnerved and embarrassed, the servant turned back and hurried into the house, deciding that he must have misheard or that the visitor had been talking to himself. After all, the mysterious figure was standing all alone.

Unless the visitor was talking to her swords.

* * *

***I really, really want to see this story through… I already planned the ending. The only problem is the middle part... **


	8. Chapter 8 The Unknowing

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. ****Bleach and all its characters are the property of Kubo Tite.**

**I see the date of my last update and I'm shocked at myself – almost half a year! And for a chapter that didn't want to be written, it sure had a lot to talk about. **

**I received quite a few comments about Muramasa being 'too' humble last chapter… Something to keep in mind when writing his character… **

**After such a long time, extra thanks to all the readers and reviewers! **

**Rant: With the recent development of Bleach… (Excuse me for a moment: *sniff*) I really wish I started writing Bleach fic earlier…**

* * *

A mind can be like a puzzle box.  
One puts things in it to lose them.  
And tears apart the box trying to find them.

* * *

Chapter 8

The Unknowing

* * *

Funny things, firsts.

How are you supposed to recognize them? How do you know it for what it is, if you're confronting it for the very first time?

He feels strangely distant, almost detached. Everything is muted, unreal, like a dreamscape. It's as if his soul is bound to himself by only a fragile, insubstantial connection.

…_But it's not only __**my**__ soul, not completely. _

"No."

The voice belongs to someone he knows, knows very well. He's never heard that voice sounding so small, so weak, almost pleading. So full of… what?

"No, you cannot take him. You **will not **take him. I won't let you."

A hand grips his own, squeezing hard as if to weld the two together – which is foolish because his long nails (Or blade-edge? What form was he in right now?) cut into vulnerable flesh. He can feel the trickle of warm blood. He wants to admonish the owner of the hand but is soon disoriented when he tries to focus on the 'thing' that is facing him – facing _them_.

"You. Will. **NOT.**"

The voice again, each syllable punctuated with desperate defiance that is almost pain. And suddenly, he does not want any of this. Not the thing that looms over them, not this blood that flows from the hand holding him, not this thought that one of them might disappear, this sense impending separation, of severance, of _loss._

_Ah, so this is how it feels. _Amazingly, the realization comes with something like amusement.

_This is __fear._

* * *

"All right, all right! I believe you! I believe you! Now PLEASE. JUST. STOP! "

Ichigo and Rukia were just entering the 10th division's office as Vice-Captain Rangiku practically screamed out the last words. Shocked, they obeyed - stopping in their tracks.

Hinamori and Kira, who were also there, turned and gave a more proper welcome and Captain Histugaya at his desk also nodded. The two returned it as they came in and sat. They couldn't help but stare at the moaning figure of Vice-Captain Rangiku – one hand clawing at her head and the other clutching at the hilt of her zanpakuto sticking out from the wooden floor. Rangiku groaned again.

"It's Haineko."

As Rukia and Ichigo looked to and fro from the vice-captain and her zanpakuto, Rangiku looked up at them bleary-eyed.

"She just won't stop. To think I used to get mad at her because she wouldn't talk to me… If I hear her say 'It wasn't me, you have to believe me! Muramasa wasn't talking about me!' one more time…"

Rangiku winced and promptly buried her head against her knees. Muffled voice crawled out.

"Now she's shrieking why I just said all that in front of you. Goodness, Haineko, if what he said has nothing to do with you, no need to get so worked up about it…. Okay, okay! I'm sorry! I'm SORRY! YES, I got that! Muramasa _wasn't_ talking about you. Muramasa hypnotized you. You'll never, ever, willingly think about leaving me. Yes!"

Rangiku grabbed her zanpakuto even harder and pleaded.

"Haineko… I have work to do! I'll never get anything done if you keep going on like this…"

"You never get any work done anyway."

Rangiku gave her captain a reproachful glance but Captain Hitsugaya merely kept his focus on his paperwork. Obviously the captain of the 10th division was less impressed by this display of anguish than the two visitors (possibly because of what his vice-captain made him go through before Muramasa's formal presentation). Rangiku, however, was not without her comrade.

"Toshiro! Don't be too hard on Rangiku-san!"

"It's _Captain_ Hitsugaya…"

"Rangiku-san and Haineko aren't the only ones…."

Now Hinamori winced – effectively (and unintentionally) transferring everyone's attention from Rangiku to her. Rangiku's voice was a little more relaxed as she addressed cringing Hinamori.

"Tobiume?"

Hinamori nodded, bending over and groaning.

"Tobiume, I'm sorry… yes, of course I trust you... Of course. I never even thought about what Muramasa said…"

Both Ichigo and Rukia's gaze gravitated towards Kira, who managed a weak smile.

"Well, Wabisuke tends to be silent anyway. Although… He's been calling me more often than usual… and whenever I answer, he just says nothing. So yes… I think he's not wholly unaffected…"

It was clear that his zanpakuto's repeated 'callings' were having their effects. The shadows under Kira's eyes were visibly more pronounced than usual.

Although Muramasa's comment about 'rabid dogs who'd as soon as turn on their masters as they were unleashed' was seemingly passed over with Renji and Zabimaru being pacified, there were some… happenings.

Apart from the three suffering vice-captains, Vice-Captain Omaeda was apparently seen nearly spitting at Gegetsuburi, asking if it wasn't _him_ that Muramasa was accusing. Then Yumichika was seen jokingly talking to Ruriiro Kujaku – saying that although he 'knows' Muramasa was talking about him, it wasn't like he didn't knew before, so he didn't mind so much.

Both zanpakutos still refused to release into shikai forms.

Then Vice-Captain Hisagi was seen looking at Kazeshini, heaving heavy sighs. Then many seated shinigami reported sightings of Vice-Captain Sasakibe taking long, contemplative (if not downright suspicious) looks at Gonryomaru..

Rangiku slumped over the couch.

"That's not a zanpakuto you've got there, Ichigo. That's a veritable devil."

"Who's a devil?"

Before Ichigo could reply, Renji strode in with his booming voice. Captain Hitsugaya gave him a look but Renji merely returned a light 'Hiya, Captain Hitsu', and headed towards the group, leaving Hitsugaya to bend over his paperwork in resignation.

"We were talking about Muramasa, you know, the dog comment..."

Rangiku started clawing at her hair again. Renji snorted as he sat down among them.

"Heh, yeah, I just passed Omaeda practically showering his zanpakuto with spit … Really, I don't see what all this is about. If anything, this proves that many are severely insecure about their relationship with the zanpakutos. If one has firm rapport to begin with, that kind of trifle accusation wouldn't bother them at all."

Renji, with his arms folded and his chin up in a dignified manner, quite failed to register the looks from his companions. Letting out a sigh that conveyed the opinion that there was only one person here who was concerned with any matter of importance, namely himself, Hitsugaya lifted his head up to inquire at Ichigo and Rukia.

"So, did Muramasa reveal any further insights after that… incident?"

Rukia also looked towards Ichigo, who shrugged.

"I heard nothing more than what everyone knows by now. Rukia, you were there too, remember?"

* * *

"Kuzumori, Shizuka, Marabochi... "

Captain Ukitake looked at Muramasa and shook his head.

"No wonder this was a secret, even from Captain-Commander."

Noting the questioning glances from Renji and Rukia, he almost apologetically turned to them.

"They were once the most powerful noble families. I say 'once' because the only places you'll find those names now would be in the most obscure shelves of the Great Spirit Library and Captain-Commander's memory."

"And I can attest to the fact that the latter is infinitely more unreachable."

Muramasa supplied with a slight smile which brought momentary frowns from everyone else. Ukitake coughed and continued.

"Only a few even remember those names. I myself heard it a long time ago. The main reason I didn't forget them is because they belonged to three members of the Central 46 Chamber."

There was a brief silence as the rest digested this information. Rukia was the first to break the interlude.

"But I thought the actual family names of the Central 46 were kept secret to avoid any possible prejudice."

"The practice was actually adopted only about 500 years ago. Now I think that _this _may have been what triggered it. Difficult to guess which came first – whether the member got chosen because of family influence or the family became powerful because one of them was a member. In either case, it'd have lent considerable authority to that family name."

Ukitake smiled bitterly at Rukia.

"Those three happened to be the last members of the three families. The entire clan dwindled and eventually disintegrated a few hundred years ago… supposedly during the period of civil unrest. The three families took the most damage from the shinigami rebellion and never recovered. That was the official record. Until now, apparently."

Four heads swiveled towards the zanpakuto spirit again and he replied.

"Yes, those three members were the ones that first noticed doubtful movements within their clans. I suppose there is some credit due to them as they were willing to turn in their own. The selected shinigami were first dispatched to recover the evidence that three families were indeed guilty of the matter. By the time all this... came to an end, nearly one third of the families were gone. Those even remotely involved were 'taken care of' and any trace of the experiment was annihilated.  
It was secretly decreed that the three clans would evaporate. The innocent members of the household were spared, but were gradually stripped of their name to be sent over to other families. The lasting members were dispatched on most dangerous missions to meet 'honorable ends'. It was an elaborate and meticulous punishment that spanned centuries. The Central 46 monitored the process with utmost care, as well as keeping anyone involved in that mission under constant observation. After a few hundred years, the past seemed to bury itself. But, it seems that past does indeed cast a long shadow."

Again, a reign of silence. Then Ichigo, the least shocked among them for obvious reasons, asked,

"You said that things got out of control."

"Ah, that. You see, the subject of their experiment was not just the zanpakutos, but also their own – the designated master-wielder, their 'chosen one', so to speak."

A flicker of that wry smile again, gone faster than the span of a breath.

"Turns out, _he_ had a mind of his own, as well."

* * *

Renji stretched and folded his arms.

"Captain Ukitake and Captain Unohana are searching the Great Spirit Library for any clues regarding those families. If they were sent to other clans, there may still be surviving members – although they were deemed to be ignorant of the whole thing. Or perhaps some weren't dead _enough. _It's the only lead we have. You sure Muramasa's not keeping anything to himself, Ichigo?"

The doubtful tone didn't affect the teen. He'd noticed that red-haired shinigami had stopped using the word 'bastard' since the… apology. Ichigo merely shrugged.

"He didn't tell me anything else."

"Hey, maybe you can grill him into saying more – gang up on him with Zangetsu-."

It was half a joke, but Renji's remark kindled an interest in others. Rangiku put her chin on both of her hands and looked curiously at Ichigo.

"So he _is_ in your… mind, right now? With Zangetsu? How is Zangetsu coping with him? If it was Haineko, I'd go mad in seconds…"

Rangiku winced again as her zanpakuto clearly had something to say about that sentiment but it wasn't enough of a distraction for others to not notice Ichigo shifting slightly.

"Zangetsu's… coping alright. Not really any problem."

Ichigo tried to turn his head nonchalantly… only to run into black orbs of Kuchiki Rukia.

"So, everything's all right?"

"Yeah, all right."

Unfortunately, everyone had joined in the stare. Even Hitsugaya had turned his attention from his paperwork. Ichigo tried not to squirm. He was _never_ good at escaping – he'd tackle himself before he could run away from anything. Perhaps if he just talked about this matter out loud in front of everyone, he'd realize it really was nothing.

Therefore, Ichigo blurted out:

"There's no need for Zangetsu to cope with anything. Muramasa's not in my inner world."

The stares turned into uncomprehending blinks and Ichigo hastened to explain.

"Well, I mean he is… sort of. He's in this other…place… It's still my inner world, but kind of breached off… I can't explain it very well. Say my inner world is a house, it's like I'm subletting a room to him. So he's within, but in a kind of separate space, if you know what I mean."

Renji scratched his head.

"Wait… so… you're cut off from each other?"

"No, no. I can talk to him anytime, just as with Zangetsu. And whenever I call, he comes to me."

With an unerring and annoying talent of treading on an unwanted spot, Renji spoke again.

"So he doesn't come out of his… 'room', unless you call? He never comes to your inner world on his own?"

"He stayed in my inner world for a while, but then he built his 'room'."

Ichigo wondered if he sounded even remotely defensive. Rukia approached in a decidedly more careful tone than Renji – which somehow bothered Ichigo even more.

"And… did he say… why?"

Ichigo stopped himself in mid-shrug.

"Says having two zanpakutos might prove a little disorienting at first. Besides, I'm not used to him the way I'm with Zangetsu and vice versa. He also said that I probably wouldn't be comfortable with him prowling every corner of my mind right now."

In a manner of someone prodding a rotten tooth, Ichigo muttered:

"It looks a lot like where he used to be, that space."

A moment, then Rukia spoke again.

"You mean… Kouga's inner world?"

"Yeah, that guy."

The zanpakuto spirit had explained _that _too. After all, it was his birthplace and his abode for nearly a thousand years. The part of Ichigo's inner world that he was 'borrowing' naturally took on the form that the zanpakuto was most used to.

It _was_ a beautiful place. Ichigo had thought so even when it had served as a stage to their last battle. Majestic pillars rising out of sky-blue waters, still and calm.

Ichigo had visited the place once, and never went back.

There was more silence, _polite_ silence. It _irked._

Renji gave an effort to liven up the atmosphere:

"Maybe he's waiting for you and Zangetsu to put up a sign: "Beyond this point, beware of Hollow.""

Everyone's gaze rotated towards Renji in disturbing slowness. Renji could practically see his frail witticism ricochet off the iron wall of their expression to clatter embarrassingly on the floor.

Of all people, it was Hinamori who successfully managed to defrost the situation.

"So… what are we supposed to now? With those renegade zanpakutos and possibly… their 'master-wielder…"

She turned to Hitsugaya for reinforcements and the captain, if grudgingly, obliged.

"We wait. On guard. Constantly on the watch and prepared. That's the only thing we can do at the moment while the others hunt for any leads."

"In other words, pretty much what we always do, captain."

Not to be beaten down for long, the red-haired shinigami met captain's cold frown with his roguish grin.

"Although, this would be taxing on you, Ichigo. You have to stay here because the captains constantly need to talk to Muramasa."

Ichigo, for the first time since he came into the room, smiled at Rangiu's sympathetic words.

"It's nothing. I've stayed here longer during the… Zanpakuto Rebellion, right? Actually, this is the only time I've relaxed this much in Soul Society. And Kon's got my body back home. Come to think of it, **that** is my biggest concern right now."

"Well, if you do feel depressed, you can count on us for company. My bosom is especially open for any lonesome child -. "

"Matsumoto-!"

"Rangiku-san!"

* * *

It was true. Whenever he came to Soul Society, it was always in the midst of some turmoil. In fact, he never remembered coming here without holding Zangetsu tight, chasing something or being chased – and more often than not, both simultaneously. Uneasy as it was, this almost peaceful interim felt… odd. There was nothing to _do_ at the moment. And now that he had time, he began to reflect on things. It wasn't an activity he was particularly fond of.

He looked up and around for the tenth time. Even then, the flurry of cherry blossoms was dizzying in its beauty. Ichigo was sitting on the private training ground of the Kuchiki clan – an honor that was quite lost on him – by the courtesy of Rukia and possibly Byakuya himself. Although the latter wouldn't admit it under the threat of a hundred Vasto Lordes with smiling Yachiru behind them saying 'Sic 'em'. (Although, Yachiru might indeed be a formidable factor).

The premise was currently empty– free from any prying eyes also due to the consideration of Kuchiki siblings.

Ichigo sighed and looked down at the sword lying across his lap.

He slowly drew the blade from its sheath, cringing at the smooth-sharp sound of steel sliding out. The narrow surface reflected a thin slice of his face as he looked down at it. Not for the first time, Ichigo wondered: How was anybody supposed to fight with this?

Sure, he'd seen Rukia wield Sode no Shirayuki, and true to her reputation, the fragile-looking zanpakuto was deadly in its elegance. However, Ichigo wasn't the one who had to wield such a sword and he'd never given it any thought. Zangetsu was in stark contrast to most of the zanpakutos just by its sheer size. Even in bankai form, Zangetsu always represented to Ichigo a tangible form of distilled strength, the onyx edge an unbreakable wall. While this…

The figure sitting inside the reiatsu prison.  
Vulnerable.

_[Well, it's not Zangetsu, you know. It's not _**yours.**_]_

Ichigo nearly jerked back. Certain thoughts – especially those he did not want to dwell on – sometimes came unbidden with surprising clarity – like someone directly whispering into his head. Increasingly, such voice began to sound like his inner hollow's.

Maybe I'm driving myself crazy, Ichigo thought. And if only that were so, I'd be _relieved_.

Ichigo absently traced a finger over the silvery pattern of the blade but drew away before he actually touched it, afraid that he'd leave a fingerprint.

"You had no such inhibition when you had to counter its edge with Zangetsu's."

This definitely wasn't a phantom voice. Ichigo managed to not jump and instead craned his neck to glance up at the zanpakuto spirit who now stood behind, looking straight down at him.

"You saw that it held against every strike. And, unbeknownst to you, it has fed on flesh and blood. _**I **_have fed on flesh and blood."

Muramasa reached over Ichigo's shoulder, long-nailed fingers catching a stray cherry blossom petal, guiding it towards the ribbon-thin blade.

"It cuts, it rips, takes life. Know that it is a weapon, to be used as such. Not treated like some delicate thing made of glass."

The petal touched the edge and gracefully, impossibly, split itself into two and fluttered down, a pair of half-moon aerial dancers.

Ichigo involuntarily shifted, causing the blade on his lap to tilt and catch light so that it flowed along its side. The light congealed into something thicker, more liquid. For a moment, Ichigo thought its color was something teen tilted his head up, confronting the upside-down view of Muramasa's face. Ichigo was ready to deliver a sharp retort but most of the sting was gone when the words actually left his mouth.

"… But sometimes you look like it."

"…Ah?"

"Some delicate thing made of glass."

Then there it was, a subtle change in the expression, miniscule widening of blue-green eyes, head drawing back ever so slightly, marked by flinching hair-locks. Muramasa only showed what he intended to show. Everything about him was calculated, deliberate, movement of a muscle, shifting of the eyes, every syllable spoken. And here was something unbidden, purely spontaneous and automatic. A genuine surprise.

Then someone coughed.

Fortunately, Muramasa straightened up in time. Otherwise, the teen's head would have collided with his face.

Hastily steadying the tittering sword, Ichigo gained composure and turned to see Rukia holding a balled fist over her mouth and Renji raising an eyebrow.

"Are we interrupting something?"

"Since when were you there?"

"Oh, just now."

Highly suspicious that there was a brief hint of amusement in Rukia's dark eyes, Ichigo spoke a little testily.

"So, what are you two doing here? Any news?"

"Well, it **is **_Kuchiki _training area. And there's no news. We just came to see if you haven't died of boredom and if you did, to clean off the corpse from the compound."

"Hey, I'm not particularly…"

"Don't worry. It was only a little obvious."

The two shared a surprisingly similar smile to themselves. It was at times like this that Ichigo was reminded of the fact that two were childhood friends.

"There is a personal business I wanted to attend to…"

Rukia's smile still remained, but her eyes became serious as she suddenly unsheathed Sode no Shirayuki in one flowing movement and swung – the sound of air being ripped only catching up after the blade stopped, the end pointing towards Muramasa. Before Ichigo could react, Rukia directly addressed Muramasa in what could be called her best 'Kuchiki' manner.

"I'd hate to leave you thinking that you've seen all that I am capable of. It was hardly a fight when you subdued me the last time and I'd like a chance to repay the debt. Sode no Shirayuki feels the same way."

Ichigo, blinking, looked from Rukia to Muramasa, who tilted his head a little.

"A challenge?"

"Just a spar."

Muramasa brushed his cheek with the back of one long-nailed finger as he regarded the shinigami. Then he lifted his gaze, looking beyond Rukia's shoulder.

"Would that be alright? Mind if I accept your sister's invitation, Kuchiki Byakuya?"

Rukia immediately whirled around.

"Nii-sama!"

The very empty expanse of the training area greeted her at the same time as her arms were snatched and twisted back. There was hardly any pain and Rukia's yelp was mostly out of surprise. With both arms now tautly held, Rukia turned her head to glare at her captor. Muramasa, looking down impassively, spoke in a deadpan voice.

"Do you yield?"

"Absolutely not!"

Indignant, Rukia shouted as she struggled against the vice-like grip.

"That was a dirty trick!"

"Maybe, but it sure was effective!"

Rukia transferred her glare to her two friends – who were holding their stomachs and laughing. Muramasa let go and Rukia turned to face him, tint of angry red still staining her face.

"I was asking for a 'proper' sparring. A little more seriousness would be appreciated."

"I am serious. Trickery is a perfectly valid form of strategy. Although…"

Muramasa reached out and took the lean blade from Ichigo's hands.

"I admit, I wouldn't mind a more 'proper' display as Kurosaki Ichigo seems to have developed an inexplicable amnesia concerning the efficiency of _my_ capability in battle…"

Turning away from the teen, Muramasa swung the blade forward, mirroring Rukia's previous stance. Rukia's frown was slowly replaced with the smile from before, and she hefted her own zanpakuto into position.

"Will you accept this dance, Muramasa."

"Honored, Kuchiki Rukia."

* * *

"Let's talk about stories."

Hisakage Tokujiro, the 17th head of the Tokujiro house, glances across at the visitor who just spoke. The visitor is young and small in stature - Hisakage wouldn't have called her a woman yet. The head servant had said this 'girl' had three swords strapped about her person. The swords themselves were in the servant's care, of course, who visits the master of a family armed? Even when the visitor is a willowy whip of a girl who hardly seems capable of wielding a knife, let alone a sword, there is no exception.

The girl sips the tea, smiling over the cup. The immaculate manner is tinged with a sense of playfulness – the contradictory feeling making Hisakage uneasy. Odd pair of eyes – grey and gold – glints, as if she was enjoying a joke that only she knew about.

"Stories."

Hisakage repeats. The odd eyes narrow and the liquid laughter in them thickens.

"You're wise, my lord. You do not waste time being angry at my impertinence, nor do you feign ignorance."

The man summons his own practiced smile to tug at his mouth.

"I have, after all, allowed that impertinence, haven't I? You're already here. However, all this may just be my idle curiosity."

"Well then, to ease that idle curiosity, I shall recount a story, my lord. And the defining aspect of a story is that it gets told, no matter how anyone tries to stifle it."

A tip of red tongue flicks out to lap at the remains of tea wetting the lips - an act that could have been sensual, but is more mocking.

"A long time ago, there were three powerful families. They had noble lineage, they had influence, authority, wealth, and power. But most of all, they had a vision."

Somehow, Hisakage is reminded of a snake he had almost stepped on when he was young. The creature was coiled among the grass, and its scaly back was even greener. He might have heard its hiss, he might have not. But he has never forgotten it. The voice lilts again.

"And a vision, my lord, is a very, very costly thing."

* * *

*TBC ~


	9. Chapter 9 Intruding Visitors

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. ****Bleach and all its characters are the property of Kubo Tite.**

**Woo-hoo! I actually managed to update in less than a month! Well, so I actually had this written earlier because I thought I was writing just one chapter… then it got out of hand as it usually does and the draft had to be divided into two.**

**Note: 'Kibatsu Sune-Ku' and 'Yousenkawa' – characters shown in this chapter - also belong to general zargon as ' Tsuki-Oumono' does, and used via very kind consent. I hope you forgive me for using your OCs such a long time later! **

**Thank you very much for your reviews!**

**general zargon: Glad you enjoyed Muramasa's 'trick' with Rukia… and his sense of 'humor'. I really want to thank you again for letting me use your OCs. I'm very much enjoying writing about them!**

**Neko of death: Thank you for the review, and Renji would also like give his thanks. :)**

**Animelover1993: And here is the next chapter! (Now as for the 'next' chapter...)**

**Grinja: Thank you for stopping by and reading! Between Ichigo and Muramasa… it probably won't be too 'overt' (that's the plan currently, at least :) ) – so that it can still be in the realm of... friendship(But, yes, per my note in chapter 1, very 'stretched' interpretation of the word). **

**dementedxc00kiie: I'm sorry it took such a long time between Chapter 7 and 8… While I'm focusing on Ichigo and Muramasa, it's fun to write about Muramasa's interaction with other characters as well, especially Rukia (Perhaps because Rukia's very close to Ichigo). **

**Itazura-na-kiss: There are so few fan-works involving Muramasa. :(**** Yes, I really wished Muramasa could become Ichigo's zanpakuto in the anime… it'd totally mess up the canon storyline but they could at least do a movie or something... In the light of recent Bleach chapters, Ichigo most certainly has *unlimited* power...**

**BratCat: Thank you for reading! I'll certainly try to keep it up! **

**Seriyuu: Yes, the 'three families' the OCs were talking about are the ones mentioned by Muramasa – the 'culprits' of the zanpakuto experiment in the past… Likely, those names will crop up again. I'm always concerned about the OC parts because there are things I'm keeping under wraps intentionally but at times, I'm wondering if it's 'too' obscure…**

**Midnight Marquis: Perhaps similar can be said about this chapter as well? ;;**

* * *

I remember you, you say.  
Which part of me, I wonder?

* * *

Chapter 9

Intruding Visitors

* * *

The tall figure sighs, reaches over the child's head and lifts the sword from her grasp.

The child stands there frozen, holding air between her pale fingers. Then the little head – covered in wild, black hair that reaches past her waist – slowly tilts up. Peculiar eyes blink dazedly at the upside-down view of the figure that had just deprived her of her prize.

To the mild surprise of the figure, the child does not run or cry out. Instead, she spins around in that awkward pose like a contortionist, eventually facing him straight. She links her hands behind her back and gives a sheepish grin. The figure looks down at the child until she fidgets. At last, he speaks.

"Why did you take this? It is not a toy."

The child snaps her head up, making her wild hair spasm. She actually sounds offended.

"Of course I know it's not a toy! It was for… Renge. There are so many at one time, and then there's no one. So we're… alone, you see."

The tall figure _doesn't_ see. The child misinterprets his silence as further sign of annoyance, coyly dropping her head. Her tiny feet trace intrusive patterns on the too-clean grounds of the house. She seems almost glad when he speaks again.

"Who is Renge?"

"My friend, of course."

She tilts her head sideways this time, earlier hesitation forgotten by the confusion why anyone would ask such an 'obvious' fact. She blinks up at him anxiously.

"You won't tell? I'm not… supposed to be out. Um, I'm not supposed to _talk_ to anybody, actually."

"And who are you?"

The child presses her lips together, endeavoring to keep a vow she belatedly remembered. The figure crouches down so that the child is no longer in danger of falling on her back looking up so high. There are discrepancies in her appearance that catch attention. The child's seemingly plain clothing is of fine quality and so is the lotus-shaped mother-of-pearl hairpiece that is currently failing its job, and the white, flawless skin seems too fragile under the stinging sun – all this strongly hinting at a child of a noble house. Yet no nobility's child - certainly no child belonging to_ this _house - would roam around like this unsupervised – with unattended long hair whipping about and on _bare_ feet, no less. Her speech is too informal for any noble child that must be subject to strict discipline – sounding even younger than her peers.

She shifts her weight under calm scrutiny of the blue-green gaze, but she doesn't seem keen on leaving, either. Earlier resolution gives way under the pressure of silence.

"Bet _you_ weren't supposed to be there, either!"

Her eyes gleam triumphantly as she accuses the figure in front of her. He sighs again.

"I was 'there' to begin with. So how did _you_ manage to get in there and steal… this?"

"Wasn't stealing! Sune-Ku-chan let me in! There were many! I was going to return before anyone noticed! And I didn't see you there!"

All shyness blown away by righteous indignation, the child shoots out word after word. The figure now knows better than to ask who Sune-Ku is, but briefly wonders who that could be - one who would, or could, let a child into where weapons of visiting shinigami are kept under custody. Before he could say anything, the pouting child's eyes widen.

"Oh, oh… You're… I've seen a lot, many of them! But I didn't know you could look like that!"

Before he could ask what she is talking about, the tiny hand grabs his long-nailed fingers and she runs – at least, this is what she attempts as the figure remains immobile and the child's bare feet merely scratch the same spot on the ground. She turns impatiently and pulls with both hands.

"Come on! Just for a moment! Let's go and see Renge with me!"

There are a quite a few questions that the figure feels need answering but there is… _something. _He wonders if it is what Kumodo might have called a 'gut feeling'. He never thought it worthy of consideration. However, whatever it is, it is urgently saying that this is important, and at the same time, it rephrases an earlier question:

"What is… Renge?"

The child looks at him, exasperated. Odd pair of eyes, grey and golden, asks why, yet again, he is wasting time on the obvious.

"Renge (Lotus) is my zanpakuto, of course!"

* * *

"Never thought it'd be entertaining to see someone else fight."

Renji grunted by way of an answer at Ichigo's comment, but Ichigo could tell Renji was impressed despite himself. Sometimes, they could spot some of the servants and retainers pausing to watch the scene from the nearby Kuchiki mansions as well as other shinigami passing by.

Compared to the bankai-clash between the captains, the fight unfolding in front of them was much more restrained, yet every movement drew in the gaze as an intricate dance does.

And it really was a dance, one maneuver leading to another like a Mobius strip – difficult to distinguish one attack from the other - even the clashing sounds of steel blending into a rhythm. It dawned on Ichigo that Muramasa's attacks enticed the maximum techniques from both Rukia and her zanpakuto - reading the patterns of the attacks, setting it as a base, matching them and adding his own touches to draw in the opponent.

"She seems to be enjoying it."

Ichigo murmured again and Renji scowled a little, unwilling to admit it, but Ichigo's observation was undeniable even to the red-haired shinigami. Rukia's face was still all seriousness but it was from concentration – her dark eyes gleamed as she flowed into the next step, gracefully countering the measured strike. She no longer seemed very concerned in the outcome of the duel, immersed deeply in the sheer potential of the next challenge.

Maybe it's his nature, Ichigo mused, getting into one's mind – reading others, even sub-consciously. Then Ichigo realized that Renji was speaking to him.

"She's worried about you, you know. That's why she offered to spar in the first place."

Ichigo turned his head towards his friend, who gave a sidelong glance at the teen.

"Partly it's about him. Everyone can't help being cautious of his presence – hell, just his existence. So Rukia's trying to set an example – to others and to you as well."

"Yeah, I know that. Don't think I'm not-."

"But more than that, it's YOU. Ever since you became his… wielder, you've been _brooding_ a lot. Thought it may be the uneasiness we're all feeling but it's something different. Maybe it's not so important in the current light of things but damn me if it doesn't look right unbecoming on you. It grates on my nerves, for one thing, doesn't look right."

Ichigo felt heat shooting up to his ears.

"I wasn't 'brooding'! It's just… well, it's kinda rare for me to be here without crashing into some shinigami with a god complex, or soul-eating abominations, or secret assassins every second. So sometimes I end up thinking. It happens to some people with more than a single brain cell, you know. There's no need for any worries. Although I understand that this may be an alien occurrence to _you_…"

"Hey, _some_ people are appreciative of concerns from his…"

They stopped and turned to see Muramasa and Rukia approaching them. Apparently the performance had come to a close during their banter. As Rukia whirled her sword once to return it to its sheath, Ichigo grinned towards the zanpakuto spirit.

"So, looks like she proved to be quite a handful, huh? That lasted quite longer than I thought it would."

Rukia huffed at the comment.

"I resent the implication that I wouldn't have matched him equally."

"She is a very troublesome opponent. In some ways, even more than you, Kurosaki Ichigo."

With that statement, Muramasa lowered his hand to hover just above Rukia's head.

"It's difficult to aim at such a small target."

Rukia, sputtering, turned towards the zanpakuto spirit incredulously as Ichigo and Renji broke out another fit of laughter. However, Muramasa's comment was to abruptly re-direct its sting.

"Actually, in terms of pure skill with swords, she may be quite superior to you."

"Wait a minute, I object! That is something to say to someone who actually beat you in combat!"

"That may be, but really, Kurosaki Ichigo, you reserve of techniques consists of Getsuga Tensho, and…"

Muramasa very deliberately gave a slight look towards Rukia, who took her cue not without certain relish.

"…Getsuga Tensho."

Renji had started to nod in agreement when Ichigo caught him in a brief headlock as he stood up. Ignoring his friend's protests upon release, Ichigo stepped forward.

"Heh, I'm not about that let that slide. All right, a challenge – I'll take you on _without_ Getsuga Tensho. And as for you, no 'whispering' and none of your illusions."

"Objection! That's _two_ handicaps."

"Hey, whose side are you on, Rukia?"

"No one's. I'm just trying to make things fair."

However, Muramasa settled the matter by nodding lightly towards the teen.

"Agreed. Although, are you sure about your term, Kurosaki Ichigo – boast's one thing -. "

There was a blur.

Then both the zanpakuto spirit and the substitute shinigami were at least twenty steps away from their original positions - the teen crouching low and pushing Zangetsu against Muramasa's blade that had just countered the whiplash attack. Ichigo gave a fierce smile.

"You should know, I'm not as _nice_ as Rukia."

To Ichigo's small surprise, the zanpakuto spirit returned the smile – reminding Ichigo of the time they'd first met, and crossed swords, just like this.

They broke away with a ringing clash only to rush from opposite angles. Another striking of steel, followed by more in quick succession. It soon evolved into a vastly different picture than Muramasa's previous fight with Rukia – painted with more brutal, sudden, powerful strokes.

Perhaps what little 'training' they had really had its effect. Ichigo found himself dodging and parrying each attack a little faster than could be attributed to his vision or reflex - sensing the flow of reiatsu and matching it, almost like being a spectator and a participant simultaneously. Beneath the simple enjoyment of the mock-battle, there was a simmering, not-quite-noticed emotion.

A part of Ichigo was drifting back to their last fight, in the inner world of Kuchiki Kouga. At that time, he could feel the zanpakuto spirit's true being with each bite of the blade, communicating things that could be never expressed in words – as was with other opponents that Ichigo had to face.

And now, in this perfectly controlled, calculated fight, there was… nothing.

_I can read your reiatsu, your technique. But I can't read _**you.  
**_I can't figure you out. _

It was infuriating.

Ichigo came to an abrupt halt, breaking the rhythm of their ongoing dance. The sudden disruption made Muramasa stop momentarily. Ichigo jumped back, turned, and ran - straight towards Renji.

Renji and Rukia, struck dumb at this completely unexpected turn, stood wide-eyed until Ichigo was about to run into the red-haired shinigami.

"What the hell – Ichigo-."

At the last possible moment, Ichigo leapt, lightly placed a foot on Renji's shoulder and, using it as leverage, kicked off into a backward somersault that described a wide arc in the air– plummeting right above Muramasa like a giant crow. Then Ichigo had a moment of panic as Muramasa made no move to counter. _'Damn, it's not like I can stop this in the middle -.' _

"Bakudo no. 4: Hainawa."

A thin cord of light snapped up towards Ichigo like a striking snake – wrapping the stunned teen in its coils. Then the iridescent rope twisted, flailing him down onto the ground.

"How did you… That's Kido! That's _cheating!_"

Renji bellowed, shock apparently overwriting Ichigo's earlier offense. Rukia, however, although equally surprised, was quick to counter.

"No it isn't! That's neither 'whispering' nor illusion!"

Ichigo squirmed and snarled, but the rope seemed to constrict him tighter. He managed to look up and the skewed view of the utterly composed zanpakuto spirit greeted him.

"What… when did you…."

"Well, if you're staying in a room for days where the only distraction is texts on shinigami skills… I did not know if it'd actually work, though."

Ichigo glared but his scowl turned into an almost wolfish grin.

"All right then… _**bankai.**_"

The explosion of reiatsu scattered the unfortunate dirt and grass all over in a whirlwind. When the sight cleared, the substitute shinigami stood – kido binding evaporated, and Zangetsu a slender darkness in his hand.

"That is cheating! A bankai!"

"No it isn't! It's not like he used Getsuga Tensho!"

With the chorus of his friends in the background, Ichigo hefted Zangetsu. As if he pulled an invisible string, Muramasa reflected the stance.

The next moment, petal-like clash-flares fluttered, and the two had, seemingly magically, changed positions. Zangetsu made air howl again and Muramasa stepped back with equal speed, putting distance.

Distance.

_Somehow, you're now further away than when I pulled you out of those waters.  
__And, like everything about you, that distance is deliberate. _

Ichigo realized that he did not like it.

_[Well, you always were greedy. About everyone around you. You can't let go of anything to save your life. After all, you couldn't even stand to lose _me,_ King.]_

It was like a cold hand caressing his skull. Going crazy _would _have been preferable.

_[The difference though, is that this one never belonged to _your_ world_._]_

Perhaps it was the voice that did it. Something that had nothing whatsoever to do with reason uncurled within. Ichigo knew it was idiotic, but it was also angry, wanting to do mischief. It snickered.

Ichigo lowered his stance and shot forward, legs barely touching ground.

Right into the path of Muramasa's sword.

Something flickered in the zanpakuto spirit's eyes and Muramasa quickly withdrew the blade before the teen impaled himself upon it.

Ichigo charged straight into the zanpakuto spirit.

Both fell back, swords leaping out of their grasp to fall onto the ground. Muramasa managed to gain some balance, barely preventing them from completely crashing down. But they continued to stumble, with Ichigo practically trying to wrestle the zanpakuto spirit down and the latter stepping back shakily to keep momentum. Ichigo gave a muffled shout.

"Do you yield?"

"Absolutely not!"

Ichigo couldn't help smiling at the unintentionally ironic reply.

"What kind of idiot _throws_ himself upon the opponent's sword?"

"What kind of idiot _moves_ the said sword out of the way?"

Ichigo caught faint flash of his friends gawking at the scene but at that moment, the balance finally gave way and both did crash onto the ground in a rather spectacular fashion. It expelled the laughter that was building up inside the teen's throat. Laughing loudly, Ichigo lifted up his head, expecting to face the stern and annoyed blue-green gaze - only to find that Muramasa was not looking at him.

Muramasa had tilted his chin way up, staring at something that hovered right over his head. Frowning, Ichigo followed his gaze. He met a pair of nervous eyes he'd never seen before.

"Um."

The eyes belonged to a boy, shifting his weight as he stood right over them. Eyes darted all over the place, apparently unsure as to where they should rest. Then a cool hand discreetly tapped the side of Ichigo's head and the teen quickly scrambled up, Muramasa following suit in a more dignified manner. This didn't seem to reassure the boy as he glanced nervously at the orange-haired teen and drew back, apparently cautious that _he_ might be knocked down as well. The boy spoke in a shaky voice.

"Um... I… er, I beg your pardon but… is, is there someone called Muramasa-sama here?"

For a moment, Ichigo thought he had misheard. He looked at his two friends and saw the same suspicion upon their faces. Then all three looked at the figure that was supposedly just addressed. Muramasa's expression conveyed that he, for once, was just as in the dark as the rest of them. Rukia stepped forward, speaking as kindly as possible.

"Did you just say… Muramasa?"

The boy nodded, desperately grasping onto something he definitely knew. Renji scratched his head as he jerked a thumb towards the subject of this question.

"You sure, kid? If it's really 'Muramasa-sama' you're looking for, that's the one."

The boy blinked at the zanpakuto spirit, mouthing 'Muramasa…sama?', to which the frowning zanpakuto spirit nodded. The boy muttered 'Oh' and quickly looked down at the long nails, to the marked face, and then, giving up trying to make sense of the situation and determined to maintain formality, bowed and spoke.

"Sir, I was told to escort you in. My master would like to request your presence for a time."

Another silence passed as all digested this information. The boy, pointing politely towards one of the Kuchiki mansions, shyly pulled his hands back at the lack of any reaction from the company. Rukia hesitantly asked again.

"You master… is a guest in Kuchiki house? Is nii – is the head of the clan, Kuchiki Byakuya, aware of your master's request?"

"Yes and yes, sir… um, ma'am. That is, yes to both of your questions, sir – ma'am."

Rukia, perplexed, turned again towards Muramasa – who finally addressed the question Ichigo was itching to ask.

"And who is your master?"

Spoken to in such a cold, authoritative tone, the boy seemed to cringe even more.

"I, I, beg your pardon sir. But, um, I'm afraid I am not, er, at liberty to reveal that, sir."

Then he hastily fumbled inside his robes. After nearly dropping whatever he was looking for, he held it out so that it teetered on his hands – a small lacquered box.

"My master… told me to show you this, though. He said that you would know, sir."

Muramasa furtively glanced at Ichigo. The action was a little like asking if it'd be alright but Ichigo wasn't sure. He merely shrugged and Muramasa took the box from the boy's trembling hands and opened it. Ichigo peered over Muramasa's shoulder but the box was quickly shut before he could take a look. Ichigo sensed something very faint – almost as to be imaginary. Before he could analyze it, he looked up at Muramasa's face. It was as if he had shut his expression along with the box. Muramasa spoke tersely.

"Now?"

The boy blinked again, then startled and nodded furiously.

"Yes, sir, if you'd please follow me, sir…"

The boy was cut off by Ichigo, however.

"Wait, wait! Whoever he's meeting, I want to know as well... "

"I, I truly beg your pardon, sir! But my master... requested Muramasa-sama's presence only..."

The boy wasn't trying to be difficult, Ichigo knew, he was merely repeating what he was told, but still Ichigo continued.

"But I am his..."

"Kurosaki Ichigo."

Ichigo stopped as the zanpakuto spirit looked at him. Muramasa's head was only turned slightly, so that he was looking at the teen sideways, not fully facing him.

"Please?"

Quiet utterance. Almost, yes, a whisper.

It'd have been better if he had _demanded_ in his characteristic, aloof manner.

_I can ignore that. I can just follow them. Or insist that he explain…_

Ichigo bit the inside of his cheek, and then muttered.

"You never asked for permissions before. What, you want to start now?"

It wasn't an answer, Ichigo knew, and was a little ashamed. Muramasa's eyes seemed to get darker. It may have been the slight bending of the head that cast shadow upon his face.

"I won't be long."

Turning around with the box, the zanpakuto spirit let the boy lead him away. At the same time, Ichigo turned around as well - passing by his friends giving him a look - to walk over to where the two swords lay.

* * *

"Interesting."

Hisakage murmurs. The girl sitting in front of him maintains the strangely playful expression. Hisakage takes a sip from his own tea. The sound of the lowered cup clanging against the small plate is louder than he'd have liked.

"Zanpakutos. Experiments. This special… 'wielder'. And the moral of the story is not to seek after the forbidden?"

"A moral is a manipulator's most tedious tool, my lord. It's an illusion that seeks to wrap the story in one's limited perception for one's own advantage. A story is just what it is."

"Yet you have not convinced me why I needed to listen to this… fantasy."

The girl smiles – as lovely as the face it rests on - but it is not a _good_ smile. It brings up certain images - such as splitting skin, or flesh flayed open.

"Let me tell you another story, my lord. It is a comparatively 'little' story, but it wasn't yet given a chance to grow, for it is ongoing. It is also a 'newer' story – therefore, it might strike nearer to heart. You see, there once was a boy, who was born and raised in a house not his own."

Hisakage's fingers stiffen slightly. The voice carries on.

"He wouldn't have known any of this if it weren't for his father – a man who nursed his bitterness as a woman carries her child in the womb. The boy was fed on his father's bitterness ever since he was born. They were exiles, his father would tell him by way of a bedtime story, exiles from their home, their heritage, their rights – exiled to this shambling house that was a poor excuse for a noble, even if it was a minor one."

"Indeed, they could all be executed for him even mentioning this. There were certain people who wanted everyone to forget this secret. Yet he must not forget, the father would say, the boy must keep it guarded in his heart, he must not lose his origins – the fact that he was of a much powerful, special lineage."

"Over time, the father's bitterness grew into venom that gnawed at his innards. And the father soon withered away, leaving his child as the seemingly only remnant of their great bloodline. However, the seed had taken root in the boy and he grew up hating the house he had to live in as much as he had hated his impotent father. He was aware of subtle discriminations by the elders of the family. He aspired, he studied, trained, more than anyone and he knew no one else was worthy of inheriting the title as the next head of the clan. He also knew that the current head of the family would never give him that title. But this boy, now a young man, knew how to properly use the venom that his father had passed onto him."

The man's throat feels parched, yet he is unable to pick up his teacup.

"One day, the 16th head of the clan takes ill and passes away. Not soon after, his first son, his successor, follows suit. The head's seat is without anyone to warm it, and there is dissension in the family. Then suddenly, the young man rises to the forefront, stands firm to bring peace to the household. He knows the words to use. He knows the right connections both inside and outside. It is not long before he is the new head of the family. The elders that knew of his origins – less than a handful anyway - have all passed away. There is no viable reason to doubt his position. Yet some of the influential relatives are talking about death of the late head and his son – not unexpected yet... suspicious. And now there are questions as to how _natural_ the past deaths in this house have been…"

Hisakage is surprised at his own speed. The way his sword seems to leap out of the scabbard. He had attended the shinigami academy. He left just before being given an officer's seat – knowing that he could rise only so far in the shinigami ranks. Yet he had kept his skills honed and they come automatically.

The girl's gaze doesn't falter at all as she faces the endpoint of the sword. Rather, it is the sword – the hand holding it – that trembles.

"Who are you?"

The words have difficulty climbing up the too-tight throat. The girl merely looks on as if amused.

Then something grips his wrist from behind, twisting it so that his sword stays frozen. Hisakage's scream is drowned as a gnarly hand covers his mouth and almost cuts off the air supply. From the corner of his vision, Hisakage catches a glimpse of his attacker and his eyes widen. It is the head servant. Yet this strength is nothing like an old man's. It really isn't - he can see the blue veins about to burst out of the paper-thin skin. He looks up and the murky eyes like misted glass rotate grotesquely to meet him.

"Kibatsu Sune-Ku (Striking Snake), do refrain from making our host expire."

The hand upon his face relaxes a little, enough for him to barely breathe. The girl slowly stands up, coil of black hair that reaches past her waist lightly swivels as she takes a step. The girl takes the sword from Hisakage's useless grip, laying it down on the floor. Then she pulls out two of the three swords hanging from the servant's sash, murmuring,

"About the first story, my lord. Well, the zanpakutos in that story are able to take over shinigami as their secondary wielders. The families really should have thought about it a bit more. Shinigami aren't _born_, they are trained to become one. So by that logic, _everyone_ in Soul Society is a potential shinigami. Then again, the results are usually not worth the effort, and they don't seem to last very long but… it's sometimes useful."

The girl gives a nod and the head servant – no, whatever's inhabiting his body – pushes Hisakage down so that his face is level with the girl's. There's sweetness to her breath, like the scent of dying flowers – the random connection makes Hisakage look at the mother-of-pearl headpiece shaped like a lotus pinned in her hair. Hisakage grits his teeth.

"If you kill me, you will not get out of this house…"

"Oh dear, what makes you think we'd like to kill you?"

The chuckle from that fey-like figure raises hairs on the back of his neck. The girl unsheathes one of the swords. The white, graceful fingers curl around the hilt and she points the blade at him. It shouldn't have been possible for her to wield such a sword with one hand, with such ease.

"Would you like him, Yousenkawa (Molten Iron River)? Although maybe, Tsuki-Oumono (Moon King) is more fitting…"

Hisakage's eyes widen in fear and the girl's high laughter rings clear. At once, the blade is gone from his sight as she casually drapes the sword over her shoulder.

"But, that's not the preferred way. Now, I didn't finish that last story."

The girl walks around the bound figure, her words in rhythm with her light gait.

"With the so-called concerned relatives yapping and watching, and the atmosphere muddy with rumors, the man's position is far from stable. Then again, his ambition is far from being fulfilled. This minor noble family is too small for him, anyway. Also, one of his father's stories keeps haunting him – a story about a vision that was unjustly squashed. Oh, they thought no one living knew about it anymore, his father had said, but _he _knew. He had taken care so that no one would find out that he knew. He had thought it a half-mad rambling of his father. Yet the story had gotten hold of him the way a story does. However, what could he do about it? All the records were gone, even if it really was true. No one knew about it anymore. It seemed a dead end.

"Until one day, he hears the story again from a strange visitor bearing three swords."

The girl stops, facing Hisakage again. He finds himself ensnared by the odd pair of eyes.

"The story could end there, my lord. It can also continue. I personally like the latter to come true as I prefer… satisfactory endings to stories. Now tell me, my lord. How should this story go on?"

Hisakage feels cold sweat upon his brow, the dryness of his mouth. His voice is muffled by the wrinkled palm.

"How long did you have these… your… _zanpakutos_ spy on me? Who among this household…"

"You're quick, my lord. But that is not really the issue here."

Hisakage closes his eyes, tries to breathe in as much as he can, and opens his eyes again.

"You said you brought a message from… a Kuzumori."

A moment of hesitation. Then in a manner of a man gambling his all, he speaks.

"Are you… my family?"

There are no words but there is a hint of compliment in that face. Like an older sibling praising a child-brother for some trifle trick he succeeded. Hisakage murmurs.

"How can… I don't…"

Then he sets his eyes hard and forces himself to straighten up. The creature binding him does not fight against him.

"There is… much that I do not understand here. But that probably just requires some time... And meanwhile… may I assume that you came here to ultimately seek… a kind of pact that may prove… mutually beneficial?"

The girl regards him for a moment. Then she gestures and Hisakage finds iron grips leaving him. He barely manages to not collapse. The girl points to what used to be the head servant.

"Would you like _that_ back? It's been only a short while since Kibatsu Sune-Ku possessed him, so he may have a chance. Not much, but a chance."

The thing that now resides in the servant's soul makes the scrawny old man's lips curl back to reveal yellow teeth. Hisakage sighs.

"That head servant practically runs the domesticity in this house. For his age, he still has his eyes and ears. And he was _very_ loyal to the late head of the clan."

Hisakage Tokujiro, who is really Hisakage Kuzumori, is a little proud of the sneer that comes.

"You can keep him, for the short while he'll last."

* * *

The boy's hands were far from steady as he served his master's tea. Then they bloomed into full-fledged trembling as he tried to serve tea to the guest sitting on the opposite side. To his horror, he over-poured the tea and a few drops landed on the long nails of the guest. The boy was petrified as he gazed at the offense he has caused. The boy stared as the pale hand delicately flicked off the tea drops from its nails. Then the hand travelled upwards – the boy following its trail only with his eyes – until it was out of the boy's line of sight, because it was poised right above his head.

The hand lightly touched his head in the ghost of a pat.

"Do worry about that. You may go."

It took a while for the boy to take in the quiet voice. Then he managed to look up at the blue-green gaze. Flustered, he quickly bowed as he stood up. Then, remembering, he turned to his master and upon receiving an acknowledging nod, skittered out of the room.

The figure facing the zanpakuto spirit spoke.

"I wonder, were you always so lenient towards younger ones?"

"I merely wanted him out of the way."

The zanpakuto spirit pushed the lacquered box in between them.

"I must admit, as invitations go, that was rather effective."

Muramasa opened the box. Inside it was an intricately crafted headpiece, encircling tuft of red hair.

The figure gazed at kenseikan, then lifted his eyes to look at Muramasa again.

"To be truthful, I never imagined that I would lay my eyes upon you again."

"Neither did I. Kuchiki Ginrei."

* * *

*Yes, I know, Grandpa Kuchiki has probably passed away in the canon timeline but hey, this fic resurrected Muramasa so I figured...

*I don't know if zanpakutos *can* use kido but in the anime, Muramasa did things that no other zanpakuto was ever seen doing (including the use of hell butterfly) so I thought to give it a try.

*'Renge' is a nickname. This zanpakuto's actual name is longer and will be revealed later on. Same with 'Sune-Ku-chan' – being a nickname for 'Kibatsu Sune-Ku'.


	10. Chapter 10 Past Trails

Yes, I admit it. I had a huge block. Which was this chapter. Then I got scared because it's been such a long time and I almost felt apologetic about having the gall to update.

To everyone who reviewed, faved, and read this story, I cannot thank you enough.

Note: Just to clear up, canon-wise, I do think Ginrei is dead. However, they don't state it outright so I just made him alive in this story. Therefore, it's not like everyone thinks he's dead or anything. He's just 'retired'… or maybe not so much…

* * *

Regret looms over.  
Like a blunt executioner's axe  
A rust-poisoned chain  
A pit dug upon our path.

* * *

"_Well, well, what do we have here?"_

_The tall white figure turned slowly at the sound, just in time to catch the sight of another white figure hurtling down from the top of a very tall construction. As soon as he landed, the Hollow smoothly slid into a walk - towards the zanpkuto spirit. The Hollow tapped his shoulder with his own 'shadow' of Zangetsu and nearly hopped the last few steps before thrusting his strange, yellow-black eyes right up to zanpakuto's blue-green ones. The ash-pale mouth slit upwards to reveal a crooked view of paler teeth beyond. _

"_So, is there any reason why I shouldn't rip you apart?"_

_The Hollow's face was close enough so that the breathy whisper almost caressed the zanpakuto spirit's face. Muramasa didn't move a muscle save to utter a reply. _

"_For one thing, it'd be pointless."_

"_Ah?"_

"_For the same reason why you won't bother the same with Zangetsu."_

_The Hollow's grin became wider before he drew his face a little away as it drawled._

"_Riiiiight… since you're now leeching off my landlord. But just because it's pointless, doesn't mean it can't be entertaining."_

"_You shall have to find another source of entertainment. I was leaving."_

_The Hollow cocked an eyebrow. _

"_What, you don't like the scenery? Sure, compared to your old place, it might seem a bit... cluttered. Personally, yours was a bit _too _spacious for my tastes - empty-looking, that's what it is. But each to his own, I guess."_

_Muramasa didn't bother to grace it with a reply. He just turned away and started to walk. The careless manner was almost insulting but the Hollow easily danced into Muramasa's path. _

"_You won't stay to play – and you didn't even say hi to the old man. What's the rush, hmmm?"_

"_I was under the impression you did not welcome my presence here." _

"_I didn't say that. I just said I just wanted to rip you a new one. But now you're in such a hurry…"_

_The Hollow flicked his chin up. The enormous blade tapped a lazy rhythm against his shoulder, as if marking the thought process that went click-click-click in that inhuman mentality. _

"_Almost as if you're running away."_

_The colorless mouth smirked. _

"_Like someone caught doing something _**naughty**._"_

_Muramasa didn't bat an eye as he spoke. But his tone implied that this conversation was quite worthless as far as he was concerned._

"_You do realize I could just move away from you and leave, _Hollow_?"_

_The Hollow smacked his lips mockingly. _

"_This is remarkably disappointing. The last time you barged in here, I remember you actively 'ringing' for me and now you're all scorn and prudish. Like I'm some sort of a pest you'd avoid. Come to that, you do believe that, don't you?"_

"_You're incorrect. I believe you're more of an awfully spoiled child."_

_The Hollow blinked, actually taken aback by the comment. If Muramasa was slightly thrown by how human – how like Kurosaki Ichigo – the gesture made the creature look, he didn't show it. The effect was soon ruined as the Hollow threw back his head and laughed – more booming and fuller than his usual cackle. _

"_Ha-Haa! You're something else! Definitely no Zangetsu, are you! I'll give you that!"_

"_What you can give me means nothing." _

"_Aww, that hurts, you know. And here I was, thinking I was special, seeing as how you practically dragged me out the last time."_

"_I did not say you aren't. Not many Hollows are, or can be, so spoiled. Your… 'landlord' indulges you too much"_

_For the first time, certain wryness crept into that still voice._

"_You're the most…. 'filled' Hollow I've ever seen."_

_The Hollow tilted his head, one eyebrow rising again. Then he thrust his head forward, stopping just short of head-butting. _

"_Maybe… you saw something you _**shouldn't**?_"_

_The voice from the ashen mouth was almost sensuous, whispered so, if it weren't for that raspy echo clawing at the ear. Yet the zanpakuto didn't give any reaction. Blue-green gaze looked beyond the scrutiny of black-on-yellow. _

_The Hollow suddenly whirled a razor-sharp turn and leapt to a nearby building, alighting on the edge of the roof like some monstrous albino crow. The movement was not graceless but nor could it be described as graceful. Every movement about the Hollow – even the barest twitch of the face – was violence personified, ready to erupt at any given time, _

"_And… in a way, I must admit you're quite 'special', as well. You're emptier than I ever remember being, zanpakuto." _

_That skewed smile, a jagged edge, thrown over the white shoulder like a shard of broken bone. _

"_You, zanpakuto, are more hollow than any Hollow." _

* * *

**Chapter 10**

**Past Trails**

* * *

"I admit, when I saw that boy with you, I thought I was seeing things."

"You're certainly of an age to be worrying about such."

After the brief exchange of verbal repartee, the former head of the Kuchiki house and the zanpakuto spirit coolly regarded each other. Then Ginrei closed his eyes as he took a sip of his tea.

"So how is being the Royal Guard to the Spirit King?"

Despite Muramasa's sudden question, Ginrei's expression remained impenetrable as he serenely set the tea down. After a while, he slowly opened his eyes.

"There were times when your perceptiveness was deemed somewhat… inappropriate."

Muramasa gave a slight shrug.

"Your presence here rather dampens the theory of your passing. Yet you've given up your title both as a captain and the head of the family. One cannot imagine you living a life of retirement. It was no great leap of deduction."

"I must disappoint you, though. I am forbidden to speak about my activities as a Royal Guard. As it is, my presence here is strictly for personal reasons."

Muramasa made no comment and the old shinigami did not seem to expect it from him. Ginrei poured himself another cup of tea. His words mixed into the sounds of trickling liquid.

"Truth be told, I expected your reaction to be more hostile."

"You misjudged. I never held you nearly high enough in my regard to hold a grudge."

Muramasa turned his own cup on its saucer, long nails scraping against the fine porcelain edge to echo high, ghostly notes.

"But _he_ did."

A bitter smile dropped onto the green surface inside.

"Something I should have been aware of."

Another short silence descended. Ginrei was too refined a being to actually break such silence. Instead, his utterance seemed to cause a gentle ripple in the atmosphere, floating over the fragile surface.

"It seems we're both here because of an unfinished business."

"So is nearly the whole of Soul Society, whether they're aware of it or not."

"Kouga always remained an unfinished business for me."

When the name sounded from the old man's lips, there was a slight clink from the delicate porcelain cup in front of the zanpakuto spirit. But perhaps the long-nailed fingers chose just that moment to idly shift the cup on its saucer. Seemingly not taking notice, Ginrei continued.

"Indeed, I had believed it would always remain unfinished."

Muramasa's smile gained a little more of its characteristic sarcasm.

"I did think it rather curious that the head of Kuchiki clan would incite _one_ person that Seireitei has no influence over – to take me."

"And you'd be taking too much liberty to even suppose that a head of the Kuchiki clan would be swayed by another's advice."

"No, you're right. I trust he has been advised plenty long before he became the head that he hardly needed any at this point."

Muramasa slightly tilted his head, a peculiar gesture that could be interpreted as both a submissive bow and an insolent jeer.

"Are you concerned that Gotei 13's choice of resurrecting me will come back to sting them in the end, after all? Should I be grateful that you came personally to extend a gracious warning?"

"I will not deny that the thought has crossed my mind. And should the situation become necessary, I will not hesitate to use whatever means in my power to stop you."

"As before, you mean?"

"A rightful accusation. Although I wonder to whom you're actually directing it to."

There was a pause. Again, it just might have been caused by the old man taking a moment to wet his throat with a sip.

"Kouga was a Kuchiki. I took him as my own. He was my responsibility. I owe something to the memory of him. And you are now here. You who are – were – part of him."

Wind blew through the slightly open window, carrying the sweet scent of cherry blossoms. Yet the memory the two shared brought different smells, of blood and steel. Of old wood and dampness of prison, sharp tang of rage and pungent despair of a broken shinigami who was a wielder, a son, and a husband. Ginrei's words seemed to echo from that non-existing dimension.

"A few hundred years, even in Soul Society, is not a short amount of time. Enough for… reflections, changes."

The zanpakuto spirit actually did lift the cup to take a drink from it, at least to feign the action. Ginrei lowered his eyes and seemed to abruptly change the subject.

"I heard that your new wielder is rather protective of you."

To his credit, Muramasa only paused a little with the cup lifted to his face – shielding his expression – before setting it down again.

"He has that tendency towards everyone."

"Yet I sense only a little of your current wielder's reiatsu from you. As if you're... keeping distance from him. So I wonder if that particular tendency is mutual."

There was no reply from the zanpakuto spirit. Ginrei spoke again.

"The last time we really regarded upon each other, you looked at me as one would on something ominous. I confess that I looked at you the same way - an undue influence over my protege. But now I think - if we merely project the fear in ourselves. Kouga's fear was as powerful as he was. And he let fear choose his path. That was his own... decision. "

The green-blue gaze blazed into steely grey eyes – whose owner remained as immobile as an ancient tree. Muramasa slowly uttered:

"He could have been shown other paths."

"Yes. I do not deny that there are regrets."

"I understand that is a lot coming from a Kuchiki."

"I also cannot say I am in possession of the answers I did not have then. Do you, I wonder?"

"You're talking to a zanpakuto who spent hundreds of years in the same place, waiting for a wielder whose voice he couldn't hear."

"A zanpakuto who has now chosen a new wielder, and who faces a different circumstance."

Muramasa turned the cup again, caught himself in the moment of a half-turn, and sighed.

"What do you want from me?"

"I merely wanted see the one who shares the same regret as I have, and desired to express that I do not wish to repeat that regret. I also had hoped to see the same resolve in you. But the last is beyond my power."

Ginrei reached over the lacquered box and lifted the kenseiken. He gently undid the simplistic yet intricate ornament so that the clasp opened to release the red locks held within.

"And a small matter of this."

Ginrei held out the kenseiken towards Muramasa who looked, for the first time, almost startled.

"There's an inscription on the inner surface of every kenseiken – to be read only when one becomes the head of the clan. It is worded by one's predecessor. I had done this one for Kouga."

Muramasa opened his mouth slightly but Ginrei lifted up his head and something flashed in the old man's eyes that might have caused Muramasa to stop. Ginrei continued as if the moment had not transpired.

"As it was, I kept this to myself all this time. I never expected to pass this over to anybody so it remained sealed, much like its original owner. but… it seems that I am to be the one who passes on many things."

The subtle surprise on the zanpakuto spirit turned into a silent question. The wizened hand merely pressed the kenseiken.

"Past need not be a binding. Whether to take this as a remnant of a regretful past or a proof that past is exorcised, is your own choice. But without all that, I merely mean it as a… 'link' between the two who share the same regrets. You may find it… '_helpful_'."

The grey gaze bore into the zanpakuto spirit's, communicating something unspoken. Then Muramasa slowly extended his hand and took the ornament. He hesitated a little before he pushed the red locks aside to look at the inner surface hidden underneath. For the last time, the zanpakuto spirit looked at the old shinigami as if ascertain some equally hidden meaning from those steely eyes. Finally, Muramasa replaced the piece – red locks and all – into the lacquered box. He nodded.

"Is that all?"

Ginrei mirrored the zanpakuto's earlier gesture and Muramasa stood up. However, when Muramasa reached for the door, Ginrei said without turning his head.

"Fear is not caution, Muramasa."

The long-nailed fingers did not stir from their perch on the door.

"Your new wielder is not Kouga. The past may not repeat itself, if one has learned."

The fingers firmly gripped the door handle, and the owner of those fingers whispered.

"Exactly, I intend to not let it be repeated."

"True, you were deemed too much of a danger to Soul Society and I had agreed. But I learned that existence itself cannot be a sin."

"I was called a demon. Perhaps they were right. And perhaps the best caution a demon may take is indeed a form of fear."

Muramasa slid the door open. Just before stepping out, he stood at the threshold.

"And, Ginrei,"

This time, Kuchiki Ginrei did look up towards the back of the zanpakuto spirit.

"Do not delude yourself. He was _my_ responsibility."

The door shut, and the tall blot of a shadow beyond grew smaller until it was gone.

* * *

Muramasa stopped just before reaching the door at the end of the hallway. Then he took a step, held the door, and slid it open all at once.

A mop of orange hair spilled in with a yelp.

A pair of brown eyes blinked up at the blue-green ones. After a moment, the substitute shinigami scrambled back up as Rukia, in an exaggeratedly discreet manner, peeked in and quipped:

"You see, he thought it might seem a little nosey to actually sneak inside the mansion and have his ears up by the room. So he just plopped down here and… I'm not sure if he was attempting to somehow awaken his latent ultrasonic abilities or merely nursing his sulk…"

Ichigo whipped his head around towards the younger Kuchiki who shrugged, and also sent a glare towards Renji, who snickered. Ichigo muttered 'I swear Muramasa's rubbing off on you…' before turning again to face the zanpakuto spirit, obviously loading no less ammunition of words to let loose. As soon as he looked at the zanpakuto spirit's face, he paused.

The pause went on.

Before Renji could seize the settling awkwardness, strangle it to near death, and shove it right up to them both - Muramasa broke the spell. Lightly bowing his head to duck under the silence, he moved to stand beside Ichigo and murmured:

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say anything about the one who summoned me. You'll have to talk to Kuchiki Byakuya for that. I assure you that it was unrelated to the current matter at hand."

Renji was about to shout something but Rukia elbowed him in the ribs. Muramasa looked at Ichigo impassively – but to Rukia, it seemed almost challengingly or -. This time, Ichigo mimicked Muramasa's previous gesture – only he pushed his head up in a more flippant manner.

"Well, hope you're up for a second meeting. You're getting popular. There's another person who's asking to be introduced to you and this time, it's someone we actually know."

Ichigo turned and strode past Muramasa. Rukia counted up to five before Ichigo turned around.

"… If that's okay for you right now?".

"Kurosaki Ichigo, it's not like you need to…"

Muramasa trailed off, settled for a nod, and followed the substitute shinigami.

But Rukia had seen the expression on the zanpakuto spirit's face before Ichigo had turned around. It's just that she herself didn't know what she'd seen.

* * *

"... And her name is Rukia. It is regrettable that I could only inform you now of her. And the fact that I have… broken a rule that upholds the name of Kuchiki."

"Perhaps it is an unknown trait that runs in our blood. I, after all, am also here… not as a Royal Guard but simply as man with a… personal agenda"

As stoic as the two Kuchiki family members were, their single syllable and stares were potent with more understanding than any vocal proclamations. After a while, Ginrei said almost conversationally – at least, as much as such a stern being could afford to be conversational.

"As secret as my visit is, I would very much like to meet my new granddaughter."

Most wouldn't have noticed a miniscule amount tension ease out of Kuchiki Byakuya. Ginrei wasn't most people. But he was also more discreet than most could ever hope to be. Kuchiki Byakuya replied.

"Rukia would find it difficult to withhold the fact from her… comrades. The less people know that you're here, the better."

Ginrei nodded. After a while, he stood up from his seat and walked over to the window.

"The apology is long overdue. Mainly because I thought such a thing as hindrance and a contradiction of honor. But yes, there's an apology indebted to you, for bearing my burden regarding Kouga – as well as many thanks."

"Grandfather. It's hardly…"

"I couldn't have done it the second time."

A certain scene drifted into the old man's mind. One word he muttered as he watched the shinigami who was a husband to his daughter, his protégé, screaming as he was being bound. The image of the trembling girl's hands that had picked up the kenseiken cradling red mane of hair.

"I would have also given apology to _him_. If it would have had any meaning."

"You did what you had to do."

"Yes, I did. Although I sometimes wonder if it merits the same meaning as 'there was nothing else I could do.'"

Powdery sun filtered through the window softly settled on his outline. The old man was a thin silhouette. Had anyone else had entered the room, that one would have walked right past the figure.

"He told me not to delude myself. That Kouga was his responsibility. I believe he meant it… as a way of absolving."

The younger Kuchiki quietly answered.

"I have also learned that past binds. And that binds can be cut. Sometimes it requires more than one pair of hands."

There was another silence – albeit a one between two people who knew each other well, who could communicate with silence.

"That substitute shinigami you spoke about…"

Something in Ginrei's voice prompted Byakuya to walk up to the window as well. The window presented a bird's-eye view of the courtyard. Beneath the gentle flurry of delicate cherry blossoms, four figures could be seen crossing the yard. The shortest figure pointed forward only to bat at its own head when the other red-haired figure gestured in response – and a bright orange-haired figure half-playfuly, half-urgently led a slender white figure by the arm as his other hand kept flicking at his own head. The white figure seemed to make some sort of reply as it absently picked off a few stray petals from both the orange-hair and the shortest figure.

"He does indeed make you see things."

* * *

"Shihoin Yoruichi dono. The princess of the Shihoin Family and the former captain of the 2nd division as well as being the former captain of the -"

Rukia's introduction, made in what her friends called – although she chose to ignore it – in her 'Kuchiki' manner, was cut off short by the very subject of her introduction.

"Oh, let's not have any of that formality. I'm now just an overstaying guest of a certain exorbitant shopkeeper and an uninvited guest who makes herself quite at home anywhere. Call me Yoruichi."

Muramasa took the proffered hand – which shook the zanpakuto spirit's briskly. After letting go, Yoruichi beamed at Ichigo.

"What IS this favor that you find yourself in with the Kuchiki? It certainly seems to be a trend… "

"Yoruichi-san-."

The former captain of the 2nd division was not a presence to be deterred at the warning words from an embarrassed teenager. She offered him one of her cat-smiles and flicked it towards Muramasa, as well.

"Well, I can and will bother you both for details later on. But since others have briefed me, we shall get down to business for the moment."

Yoruichi nodded playfully towards Rukia to continue. Rukia cleared her throat and did just that – providing short background for the benefit of Muramasa.

"Yoruichi-dono is currently staying with another former captain named Urahara Kisuke at the Human World under certain circumstances. They have also been recently investigating the sightings of strange shinigami over there."

"So I come to Soul Society to seek information and lo and behold, I find that the information has already been imparted to our resident substitute shinigami by two illustrious members of Gotei 13. Turns out, this is more interesting than Kisuke and I have surmised. I have not forgiven you two either, by the way."

Mischievous grin from the woman made both Rukia and Renji flinch a little.

"But I am charitable. As a proof of that, I am here to offer some assistance."

"We're grateful for that, Yoruichi-dono. But there aren't many leads-."

"I think you have been… too _traditional_ in your method of research."

Yoruichi winked at the two baffled shinigami.

"I have my ways… and certain contacts. But Kisuke also has some information that he'd like to share and it might be a good idea for you all to see him."

"Actually, I was thinking I needed to return for a while as this matter isn't going to be resolved in a day -."

"Oh, your friends were also at Kisuke's when I left."

The seemingly casual remark immediately froze the substitute shinigami. Ichigo stared at the innocently smiling – as much as Yoruichi could appear innocent – woman as if he received an unsuspecting blow to the back of his head.

"Um. You mean Chad… Ishida and… Inoue. "

"Kisuke was discussing the matter with them since you weren't, you know, in."

"And, er… did they say anything about…?"

Yoruichi let the twinkle in her golden eyes substitute for the answer and Ichigo grimaced. Noticing the teenager's sudden lack of enthusiasm about returning the human world, Rukia tapped Ichigo on the arm.

"Ichigo. You… _neglected _to tell any of them… of your… visit here. Right?"

"It… kind of slipped off my mind."

Rukia and Renji looked at each other to share the eye-roll. Ichigo opened his mouth but wisely decided that any possible attempt at self-defense would be ineffectual. Muramasa surveyed everyone's reactions and seemed to search his memory.

"Would these… friends be the three I had encountered the last time?"

Ichigo's stiff nod prompted a sigh from the zanpakuto spirit – as well as a light chuckle from Yoruichi.

* * *

The Quincy, priding himself in his belief in logic, did not believe in jinxes.

Yet he secretly harbored a suspicion that the owner of Urahara shop was a harbinger of ill bodings. He kept it to himself because it was unfair to begrudge a person for simply being the first to sniff out the smoke in the air. Yet they had met the man just an hour ago, discussing the mysterious sightings of shinigami who were proving to be horrors for both humans and hollows. Now they were facing – this.

The empty-eyed creature didn't seem to feel the blow of El Directo – disconcerting since the blow had dislocated the joint in its left shoulder. The slouching figure lurched like a puppet under clumsy fingers. The jerky movement made Sado and Uryu pull back and shield Orihime– the last still concentrating on the still figure of an unfortunate shinigami. Uryu risked a quick backward glance before facing their opponent again. The shihakusho, the reiatsu -.

There was no doubt that they were facing one of the 'mysterious human-hollow-eating shinigami' that Urahara had warned them about. A flick of that fan and a grinful 'So, best to be careful in case you run into one.' _Indeed_. Fortunately, there was only one-.

The sound that erupted from the shinigami-thing would haunt the Quincy's nightmares for quite a while.

The shinigami-thing threw itself down on its back, convulsing. Then black aura began to flow up from the thrashing figure. The telltale reiatsu told the teenagers the nature of this aura before it began to take shapes.

Hollows. Tens of them.

Damn jinx.

Shifting their focus from the now-immobile shinigami to the improbable rain of Hollows, Sado and Uryu let loose their strongest attacks. And yes, it _was_ too much to hope that they'd manage to hit all of them.

Uryu breathed out a curse as he saw one Hollow hurtling towards Orihime. Both Sado and Uryu moved to intercept it but other Hollows were already flanking from both sides–

Wind roared and the two suddenly found themselves devoid of Hollows on either side. At the same time, the Hollow speeding towards Orihime jerked to a halt as if it ran into an invisible wall. Then there was a flash and the Hollow was torn asunder.

Sado and Uryu were aware of familiar reiatsu landing beside them, as well as hints of dark and red hair that flashed by the edge of their vision. Yet they only stared forward. Orihime blinked as the last remaining bit of Hollow disintegrated before her eyes. Then she turned to look behind her, breaking into a smile of welcome –.

"Thank you -"

The girl's words tripped into an ungainly halt. Her eyes widened as she took in the figure behind her. The figure spoke as the orange-haired teen standing behind hefted his unused sword in a sheepish manner.

"No."

The zanpakuto spirit lowered his hand.

"No need for thanks. I owe you, after all."

* * *

So Ginrei mellowed down during all those hundreds of years….

… or I'm trying to explain myself for writing him in such a way… this was a personally scary chapter to write... (hides in a corner)

Hollow Ichigo wasn't even in the game when I initially started writing this. Now it looks like he'll play a considerable part. I always liked Hollow Ichigo but as of recently, my fondness for the character doubled for seemingly no reason. And I like the picture of him flirting, er, I mean interacting with Muramasa...


End file.
